The Long Way Home
by SkywalkerChild
Summary: ALL CHAPTERS NOW PROPERLY FORMATTED. Based on George Lucas's original idea for the postROTJ universe. Our heroes go their separate ways. Will they ever find each other again?
1. Smuggler's Run

Author's Note: This story is inspired by the following bit of information from Soul of the Jedi—

According to Gary Kurtz, GL's original idea for ROTJ had it ending with the heroes all going their separate ways and Leia being crowned Queen of her people.  
We know he changed his mind- but... (Asmesarthim)

Setting is immediately after _Return of the Jedi_, unless otherwise noted.

Rating: PG-13

**The Long Way Home**

Chapter One: Smuggler's Run

Han Solo sat in the cockpit of the _Millennium Falcon_, feet propped in Chewbacca's seat. The star lines flew past the view port, a sight dizzying if it wasn't so common place to the smuggler. Han's thoughts weren't on his destination, but rather the long journey that had taken him here, and a thousand questions about what he could have done differently.

For every one of those questions, there was a light year between him and the life he had known for five years. On a forest moon, a princess and a Jedi stood staring at the sky, waiting for the familiar, beat up round shape of Han's ship to return. He had left before, surely he would come back, the two thought.

"Not this time," Han said to himself. The war was over and the battles won; there was no need for soldiers anymore. The soldiers would be changed into mechanics and construction workers, two jobs Han did not find particularly appealing. There was no room in this new Alliance for smugglers who had been weak and stupid enough to fall for princesses…

-----------

_They had sat together after the celebratory fires had died out, staring into the embers, their hands interlaced in silence. Though Endor buzzed with life, the Corellian felt very alone. All the things he had admitted to, or almost admitted to, about Princess Leia sat uncomfortably between the two of them, a third party in what should have been a tender moment._

_"Han…" Leia's voice had broken the silence, but only just. "There's still a lot of work to do," she said. "I have to find a place for my people…there's a galaxy to put back together…" Her voice trailed off, but regained its courage. "I am not my own woman anymore…I never really have been. The things I have to do now…I'm not sure if, or when, I'll have time for anything else."_

_Han didn't say anything at first, but he pulled his hand out of hers, rubbing the back of his neck in thought. What had he expected? It had been pulling teeth to get her to acknowledge his existence in more than a "Beneficial to the Alliance" kind of way. A moment of weakness had made her say all the pleasant things he'd never before believed a woman saying to him? Obviously, if this was what had come down to?_

_He looked at her, though her eyes were still searching the coals. She was **so** beautiful, but he could never really have her. She belonged to her people, her galaxy, her Republic. There was no place for one lonely man in all that._

_He stood up and tugged on the hem of his shirt. "So long, Princess…"_

-----------

Han noticed that Chewie hadn't said anything to him since they began their repairs to the _Falcon_ that same night. No questions, especially; only a few growls of agreement or frustration as they tried to repair Lando's damage. The lack of receiving dish would cut down on their video entertainment considerably, but Han had meant to start reading more anyway.

A light blinked on the console, indicating their trip was nearly over. Soon, they would revert to real-space, and Chewbacca's home world of Kashyyyk would be floating before them. After so many years of traveling, of hiding, Han's one true friend was finally going to be returning home _for good_. At least one of them should be happy.

The doors to the bridge swished open, and the being in question shuffled in, nearly tossing Han out of his seat as the Wookiee tried to get to his control panels. Han cursed at him in Huttese, but the word carried little weight behind it. Chewbacca looked at his friend and did his best to raise a furry eyebrow as he growled.

Was he absolutely sure about this?

"Of course I am, Chewie! Look, I don't know how many times you have to save me before the Life Debt is complete, but if you keep staying with me, you'll keep needing to pay it back. Go home. Find a wife. Make a baby Wookiee or two and name one after good ol' Uncle Han."

Chewie grumbled again. Did Han want to stay on Kashyyyk for awhile, relax a little bit?

Han shook his head. "Spend time with a planet full of you guys? No thanks, pal. I'm going to have enough trouble getting _your_ smell out of my clothing without getting more Wookiees involved.

Chewbacca told Han exactly where he could put his smells. Han laughed.

"Look, I've got plans. Lando and I are going to meet up on Dantooine. He's heard that there's a market cheap transportation modes in the system…"

Was Han going back to smuggling?

"Nope. Completely above-board stuff. I don't want to undermine a government I helped set up, now do I?"

Chewbacca shrugged. The _Falcon_ lurched at that moment and both men set to work.

"Well, here you are Chewie, home sweet home."


	2. Matters of State

Disclaimer: The characters below are property of George Lucas and Lucasfilm LTD. Only the situations belong to me.

**The Long Way Home**

Chapter Two: Matters of State

Luke Skywalker sat inside the cockpit of an X-Wing fighter, R2-D2 happily beeping away in the back. The Jedi Knight kept an eye on his sensors, tracking the larger frigate that traveled beside him. Inside that ship, along with all the other leading members of the Alliance, was his sister.

_Sister_. It had only been a month since he had found out the truth, less since he had told Leia Organa, Princess of the now non-existent planet of Alderaan. So little had changed between them, and yet so much. Luke did not need the Force to know that Leia was avoiding him on anything but a business level, knew she wasn't really ready to talk about it.

But Luke didn't really understand. Until that moment on the Endorian bridge, both had thought they had lost everything—family, friends, all gone. And now, there was something, a family to create, or re-create. Questions needed to be asked, even if there were no answers.

_Questions she doesn't want to ask_, he told himself. He could close his eyes and picture the look on her face when he'd told her about Darth Vader, the thing their father had become. Revulsion and horror had fought for dominance, only to be won over by confusion in the end. Luke wanted to tell her about that moment, with the _Death Star_ falling apart around them, that their father had said all he could. He wanted to help her come to terms with all that Anakin Skywalker had been, before and after.

R2 beeped to get his attention. They would be in the Coruscant system soon.

"Thanks, R2. Could you hail _Freedom's Dream_ for me and see if you can get Leia on a secure line?"

R2 tweeted and whistled for a few moments, and then a tired, throaty, female voice filled the cockpit.

"Yes, Luke?" She didn't sound annoyed, or angry, just busy.

"I…well, we'll be at Coruscant soon."

He could almost see her rolling her eyes. "The sensors seem to indicate that, yes."

"I'm going to be scouting the Jedi Temple once we land, to see if there's anything left."

"I doubt the Emperor or…Vader," the word was a curse on her tongue, "would have left much behind."

"No," Luke said softly, "but Anakin Skywalker might have."

"Luke, I don't have time…"

"That's not why I wanted to talk to you." He took a deep breath. "Look, I don't know what kind of reception we're going to get once we come out of hyperspace. If there looks like there's going to be trouble…trust your instincts. Don't be afraid to tell the Admiral what your gut is telling you."

The silence was deafening; he thought they'd lost their connection. He could feel her out there in space though, processing what he had just asked her to do. _Trust the Force_.

"If we're going to be having that much trouble, I think our pilots are better equipped than I am to develop a strategy."

Luke sighed. "All right." He thought for another moment. "Leia?"

"Yes?" Now the annoyance was creeping in.

"When we land…don't be afraid to contact me. Any time. Just in case you need to…talk, or something."

The smile had crept back into her voice. "All right, Luke. I'll know where to find you, won't I?"

Luke smiled too. "Yes, I suppose you will."

------------

They reverted to real space and were immediately hailed by the planetary defense system, or what was left of it.

"Approaching air craft," it said in a mechanical voice. Clearly, the Rebels on the capital planet had not gotten around to this yet. "You are flying under unauthorized com signatures. Prepare to be…"

The voice cut off and a frantic female voice, very alive, broke through. "Sorry about that! The system is fighting me every step of the way." She slowed her breathing, taking on a more professional demeanor. "Please identify yourselves."

"This is Admiral Ackbar," the watery voice of the Calamari said over the com waves, "along with Mon Mothma, Princess Leia Organa, and a contingent of very tired but victorious star pilots. Requesting permission to land near the Senate building."

"Permission nearly granted," the woman said. "But first…X-Wing pilot, please identify yourself."

"Luke Skywalker." The droid beeped angrily. "…and R2-D2, astromech that saved the galaxy."

The woman laughed. "Well, thank you, R2-D2, we all appreciate it. I'm sending you the landing vector now. Please do not deviate, unless you're up for some thrill-seeking. The air space is filled with people trying to get off, and on, the planet."

As the com line went down, R2 beeped warningly and Luke laughed. "No, R2, we'll do it by the book this time."

R2 whistled happily as they began their descent.

The com operator wasn't kidding. Flight lanes were packed with inter-stellar vehicles of all sizes, and the intra-planet vehicles created a blanket over the entire planet. Luke and R2 maneuvered the X-Wing through the crowd, tipping to port suddenly when a Y-Wing lumbered into their path. In the corner of his mind, Luke felt for Leia, who radiated anxiousness and excitement.

He was so focused on Leia and his landing, that Luke didn't really appreciate the planet until he stepped down the ladder and onto the landing platform. Besides the flying vehicles, more vehicles than he had ever seen in a non-combat situation, there were the buildings. They soared above his head and below his feet, covering every square millimeter of the planet's surface. His connection to the Force was almost overloaded as the myriad of beings finally penetrated his perceptions.

He staggered a bit, only to feel a soft hand hold him around his bicep, steadying him.

"Luke? Are you all right?"

Leia stood next to him, dressed in the white gown she had worn after the victory at Yavin IV. She looked every bit the princess yet there she was, his sister, making sure her brother was all right.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just…there are so many beings here. It's a lot of feelings to have hit you all at once."

She let go slowly, looking over his face. He had lost much of his Tatooine tan, and his hair was darker now than when they had met five years previous. Still, as she watched him experience Coruscant for the first time, the farm boy who had rescued her came back with a vengeance. It made her smile.

She pointed towards a waiting hover car. "That Bothan there will take you to the Jedi Temple, or what's left of it. Take R2 with you; he might be able to tap into some of the computers. The Emperor didn't tear the whole place down, but we don't know what kind of security he set up. No one has been inside since…" She stopped, choosing her words carefully. "No one has been inside in twenty-five years."

Luke nodded. "And what are you going to be doing?"

Leia gestured towards Ackbar, Mon Mothma, and several other senators who had been fighting the good fight from within a corrupt system. "I'm going to see about putting the pieces of the galaxy back together again."

Leia gave his hand a squeeze, slipping something cold into his palm. "This is my personal communicator. If I don't answer it, 3P0 will. Just in case…"

Luke nodded. "Just in case."

Leia walked off, straightening her shoulders and taking long, measured steps towards the assembled crowd. The senators greeted her with warm hugs, smiling with relief that they were seeing her again.

"What's happened since?" she asked as they began the walk into the Senate.

"We had to do some crowd control immediately after the news arrived. Some beings were very happy about our victory, and some were not. Arrests for looting sky rocketed, but there wasn't too much violence." The man speaking, Senator Dinh of Mygeeto, was not much taller than Leia, with pitch-black hair and almond-shaped brown eyes. He had curried favor with the Emperor when he was merely Chancellor and had been awarded a Senator-ship of a nearly deserted planet.

They had arrived at the Senate offices now, having by-passed the hall entirely. Leia had felt a chill as she walked passed the sealed and guarded doors. The last time she had been in there, her father's messenger had arrived. The last time she had been in there, her life had changed.

"And what about the remainder of the galaxy? How are the other systems coming along?" Mon Mothma asked in her even tone as they reached her former offices. The room had been looted of much of the furniture, save a desk and a chair. Clearly, Mon Mothma's fall from favor had excited the younger senators, who had probably redecorated their offices with her abandoned items. Mon Mothma looked around and shook her head, offering the chair to Ackbar. He sat gratefully.

Senator Solada of Kamino, a human female, produced three identical data cards and handed one to each of the arrivals. "The most problems arose in Confederacy systems. They seemed to think they could overthrow the men and women put there by the Emperor. We haven't lost anyone yet." She paused. "Some of the other systems, though…well, they're sending communiqués indicating they might not want to join whatever government we come up with next."

Leia nodded. "That is to be expected. Please get me a list of those ambassadors who are expressing discomfort. I will get to work on them immediately."


	3. Hidden Past

Disclaimer: All hail the might George Lucas! He is rich, and powerful. He owns these characters.

**The Long Way Home**

Chapter Three: Hidden Past

The brief ride through the streets of Coruscant was exhilarating for the young Jedi Knight. He marveled at vehicles he had only seen pictures of back home as the swooped down overhead, trying to see the beings that operated and traveled in them. Tatooine may have been a wretched hive of scum and villainy, but Luke's exposure to non-humans was still surprisingly limited. He hadn't known there were this many beings.

"The Jedi Temple?" his driver asked, voice amplified by an intra-ship com system. "Good luck getting in there. I heard the last person who tried got electrocuted." The Bothan shook his furry head. "No sir, doesn't seem like a very good idea to me."

Luke chuckled. "You're probably right, but it's something I've got to do."

The Bothan looked in his rearview mirror at Luke, then his eyes shifted briefly to the droid. "Send him in first."

------------

The Jedi Temple was a pyramid of sorts, with five spires shooting out of the top where its apex should be. The tallest of the spires had a round room at the top, every wall a window. The closer Luke got to the entrance of the building, the more sadness, horror and regret he felt in his soul. Clearly, something horrible had happened here.

_Darth Vader's doing, I imagine_.

R2 beeped warily as they began ascending the steps. Do I have to go back there?

"Back?" Luke looked down at his droid. "R2, are you saying you've been here before?"

R2 beeped again. Uh, no?

The farm boy from Tatooine stared at his flying companion. "You, I think, have a lot of explaining to do. But first, the Temple."

Twenty-five years of neglect had not marred the beauty of the Temple. If Luke pushed back the pain, he could almost see the men and women his father had known, hurrying around inside. Beyond the fear that resonated off these wall, peace and wisdom sat quietly, hoping to be rescued from the past.

There were no doors leading into the main foyer, but the thick layer of dust suggested that no one had come through the portal in a very long time. R2 extended a robot arm, scanning ahead of them for anything nefarious or problematic. Giving cautious whistle, the droid seemed to indicate that there were no traditional traps in the area.

Luke reached out with the Force. The negative emotions grew more overpowering, and there was a sense of malice somewhere, but it was farther away, older. If there was a Force-trap laid inside, Luke could not sense it.

He took his first step into the Temple.

He was on the lower level of what appeared to be a three-level building, though Luke imagined there were subterranean levels hidden. Huge marble columns supported the distant roof; enormous staircases led to the places above. Luke stood for a moment, visually over-stimulated by the sheer size of the building. There was so much to explore.

Reaching out with the Force, he turned left, heading towards a set of closed doors that could barely contain the sorrow and rage behind them. Luke touched the door with his right hand, only to feel a jolt of energy seer through the metal and up into the skin of his bicep and shoulder.

"Ow!"

R2 twittered next to him, almost giggling. Another arm extended, R2 plugged himself into a nearby jack, twirling the outlet while he hummed a tuneless song to himself. With a splat of glee, R2 disengaged himself from the wall just as the doors opened.

The smell was overwhelming. Luke coughed, bringing his sleeve up to his nose. Inside were skeletons, tiny skeletons with deactivated lightsabre handles next to them. R2 made a mournful sound, all the while scanning for traps. When he found none, he retracted the arm and wheeled closer to his master, nudging the Jedi's leg a little.

"Children, R2. He…_slaughtered_ these children."

R2 whistled in understanding but provided no more information. The information stored deep in his sub-processors might have helped Luke, but he had been ordered by Bail Organa of Alderaan never to reveal what he had seen. Still, with Bail Organa and the Emperor dead…R2 stood quietly, pondering what to do.

Luke walked into the room, only having to step back immediately. The pain was too great; greater than the feeling as the Death Star had exploded behind him. Those men and women had known the dangers; these were children, who probably had no idea what was happening when…Luke swallowed. His father had done this.

_No_, he corrected himself. _Darth Vader did this_.

"Come on R2," he said, patting the droid on top of his domed, silver head, "let's move on. I can't imagine we'll find any happier places, but it's got to be better than this."

R2 beeped his agreement and the two turned around, closing the door on the death behind them.

-----------

As Luke suspected, death was everywhere. Although no bodies lay on the second level, Luke knew there had been many there, a score of Jedi slain by a Sith Lord they had trusted with their lives. If there had been traps laying for the nosey citizens of Coruscant, they were gone now. Neither R2 nor Luke could find anything barring their travels through the hallowed grounds.

At the end of a long corridor, Luke encountered another locked door, this one holding back sadness and regret. What surprised him, however, was how easy it was to identify who the emotions had belonged to.

"Obi-Wan…Yoda…" He turned to his droid. "R2, can you get this door opened?"

The droid gave his best scoffing noise, humming again as he talked with the agent computer system. R2 gave a few choice beeps as the system refused his entrance, then let out a victorious whistle as the doors slid open.

It was a command room, of sorts; computer banks and terminals covered in thick layers of dust. Luke ran his gloved hands over the instruments, leaving finger trails. His senses were stretched, trying to pinpoint why he felt his two masters' so strongly in here.

He stopped at a small holo-display, much like the ones on board Han's ship. Shaking the smuggler out of his mind, Luke examined the controls. Here the sadness was greatest; here he could feel Obi-Wan's regret as though it were the suns of Tatooine. Taking a deep breath, Luke pushed a button.

The display came to life immediately. He saw the Emperor, cloaked as always, standing before a young, kneeling man. The man had long hair and a scar from the forehead to the cheek on the right side of his face. He wore a black cape. His voice wavered as he pledged himself to the Emperor.

Palpatine's voice was strong and clear, however. "Rise, Lord Vader."

Luke paused the display, staring at the kneeling man. There he was…the man who had once been known as Anakin Skywalker. Luke examined him clinically, noticing the chin he had hated so often as a child reflected in the tiny blue man below. There were other similarities, subtle, probably tempered by the affects of his mother.

Anxious, Luke resumed playback. The image shifted, and he saw his father, or the husk of his father, blue lightsabre ignited, killing Jedi…killing Jedi children. The bile crept up into his throat, causing him to gag and almost vomit. _Obi-Wan must have watched this too. To see his student doing this…_Luke shuddered. No wonder no one had wanted him to know about his father.

R2 beeped sadly behind him, bumping into Luke's leg lightly. The last Jedi looked down, shaken out of his horrid reverie.

"R2, I want you to copy everything you can from these computers. Anything that's not damaged. If it's encrypted, don't worry about it. I just…I need to have it all."

R2 gave a resigned whistle and began copying the files.

Luke looked over the control room, wondering if any happy memories had survived the horrors of his father's deeds.


	4. Forbidden Topics

Disclaimer: The characters below are owned by George Lucas. I have merely borrowed them for a play date.

**The Long Way Home**

Chapter Four: Forbidden Topics

A light breeze blew through the spaceport in Dantooine's capital, bringing with it the smells of outdoor food markets and unwashed sentient beings. Han Solo's nose wrinkled and he gave a short cough before repositioning himself against the wall. With one foot pressed flat against the wall, he adjusted his sun-blocking eyewear and crossed his arms over his chest.

Lando was late.

Although still considered a Core planet, Dantooine's outer location had left it mostly unharmed by the Empire's ravages. Most of the citizens never knew how close they had come to destruction five-years earlier, but neither were they to be caught unawares. The people had welcomed their regional governor with open arms, following his rules and sectioning off their cities to segregate the non-humans.

All the while, the Rebellion had flourished underground, supplying those who needed help, without asking about political affiliations or post-Empire intentions. Rebel cells had quietly sabotaged products intended for Imperial space, but they had also volunteered to hold a summit of disenfranchised citizens from their quadrant. If the Emperor had ever known of their intentions, he obviously did not fear them.

A smuggler-turned-Rebel-turned-General-turned-smuggler could get lost in a place like this.

On the other side of the street, a Rodian couple sat drinking with two straws out of the same metal container. Periodically, the male would look up and assess Han, only to be redirected by the female, who talked animatedly, gesturing over her body to delineate clothing lines.

_Wedding plans_, Han thought absently. _Poor shmuck. Maybe I should put him out of his misery, like Greedo_. Han fingered his blaster casually, grinning.

"What's got you happy, pirate?" asked a smooth voice from his left. Han hid his surprise, turning his head slowly and lowering his eyewear to look at the speaker.

"You're late, Lando. Our customers are starting to get antsy."

Lando Calrissian flashed his most charming smile. "I really am sorry, old buddy. I got caught up in a…discussion about re-opening the liquor trade for a few systems."

"We can boot-leg liquor all you want on the next run. For now, let's get these two gentlemen off-world before they find another buyer."

"You could have taken off without me," the darker human said, entering the docking bay with a flip of his waist-length cape. Lando always dressed stylishly; his pants tailored, his shoes shined, his shirts pressed. Han was his opposite, dusty pants and vest, scuffed shoes and a stained shirt. Han had agreed to let Lando do the negotiating for cargo if the former-scoundrel promised never to pilot the ship again.

"I could have. But I was going to have to come back for you, with no cargo, and you're just not worth the fuel, my friend. So I'd rather wait, and get my money and the next assignment at the same time."

Lando nodded, and his face changed as they reached the _Millennium Falcon_. The two Aqualish males paced where the loading ramp would eventually come down, looking at their wrist chronometers with trepidation. Their shoulders relaxed a little when the charming human who had booked their passage came up, arms open to embrace them.

"Gentlemen, I am _so _sorry to keep you waiting. I needed to be sure of our exit vector and the cargo list before I could feel completely confident in your safety." He nodded to Han, who keyed an extensive code into a pad on the side of the ship, which opened the ramp. "Please, welcome aboard."

--------------

The flight plan was longer than anyone had expected, as Han had to maneuver around a few pockets of known Imperial activity. Lando fed their two guests, promising them regular information as to their progress. Han remained in the cockpit, staring at the controls.

"Do you miss her?" Lando asked when he returned, taking off his cape and leaving it on the co-pilot's chair. Chewbacca had used a special plant to remove all his fur from the interior of the _Falcon_ and his mother had left artificial scent creators in strategic locations. No trace of the Wookiee remained, except with the over-sized seat.

"Her who?" Han asked evasively. "Sure, I miss Mon Mothma's sobering talk of Bothans and spying and certain death…"

Lando sat down, turning to face his old friend. The gambler's face was serious. "I miss Leia, myself. In fact, I was thinking that after we finished a couple of runs, I'd swing by Coruscant…"

Han turned his chair sharply, mouth opened to give Lando hell. That was the old Han, though, the Han that gave a damn about the princess in white. The new Han, or the old-old Han, cared about money and Corellian Ale and fixing his ship.

He shrugged. "If Her Worshipfulness has the time for you, I'm sure she'd _love_ to reminisce about how you sold her to Darth Vader."

Lando frowned, but did not move. "I know I am never going to fix that mistake, but I think I've done more for the cause than against it. Han, are you still mad about that? Because I am sorry."

Lando didn't see Han's right hand coming, only felt it connecting with his left cheek. Lando fell over the side of the chair, small drops of blood slipping onto the chrome floor.

"Sorry? You're _sorry?_" Han swung his chair around. "Stop bleeding in my ship. Only Jedi are allowed to bleed in this ship."

"I really thought we were beyond this," Lando said softly, hand resting on his cheek. "We saved the _galaxy_, Han, together. I could have gone into this business with Wedge, you know; he was ready to hang up his fighter helmet. But I wanted to fly it with _you_, because you're the best. And we go way back. Don't you understand why I…"

"Shut up." Han didn't look over at his friend. "Look, I'm sorry about the punch. I just…I don't want to talk about Leia. I think I would _rather_ talk about my time in carbonite."

Lando gave a pained chuckle and turned towards the consoles.

--------------

"So I'm thinking," Lando said while the two ate dinner in a hotel room on Ando, "that we should swing Rim-ward, see if things have changed at Cloud City or on Tatooine."

"Tatooine has survived every governmental change since the beginning of time, without as much as a blink," Han countered. "Do you really think this new government is going to warm those iced hearts?"

Lando shook his head. "Han, Han, Han," he muttered. "With the Empire gone, all previous agreements are off. The shipping lanes are up for the bidding; people won't have to pay tariffs until the new government gets itself set up. What would you like to specialize in—spices, weapons, vehicles…?"

Han stroked his chin, feeling the stubble that would soon turn into a tightly-cropped beard and mustache around the lips and chin. "I didn't like the sand much," he offered lamely.

Lando sighed. "Is there a planet in this galaxy that _doesn't _hold any bad memories for you?"

--------------

While Han tinkered with the ship, Lando traversed the shopping district, smiling at the women and bowing low to the men. The Aqualish were not a very trusting species, but they appreciated flattery as much as the next beings. They had not fared well as members of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, and were hoping to find forgiveness, or at least funds, in the new government.

All around, many languages were spoken, most in heated tones as consumers tried to get the lowest price for the most goods. The smells were pleasant, not conflicting so much as complimented each other, a complete holiday dinner for the olfactory senses.

Lando stopped at a shop that featured gowns of lovely silks. One in white immediately caught his attention. It was long and sleeveless, with Alderaanian roses embroidered in ivory along the hem and collar. Lando smiled.

"How much?" he asked the merchant, actually a Gran female.

She looked him over, examining the clothing and accessories. "Your cape." She looked again. "And your belt."

Lando nodded. "And how much to have it gift wrapped and sent to Coruscant?"

The Gran's ears twitched and she smiled.

-------------

Han didn't ask any questions when Lando returned to the _Falcon_ wearing only his pants.


	5. Tangled Web

Disclaimer: The following characters belong to the all mighty George Lucas. I'm not making any money off of them, I don't want to make any money off of them and I probably _couldn't_ make any money off of them. Kthnxbye.

**The Long Way Home**

Chapter Five: Tangled Web

The Senate Chambers, dusty from years of disuse, needed major repairs. There had been talk among the Rebellion's leaders of finding a new place to convene, but nostalgia won out. Hundreds of men and women, human and non, once crack teams of insurgents, now walked the dirty, broken levels, trying to piece together a better place.

Leia Organa watched from Alderaan's former post, looking out over the platforms where she had spent so many of her formative years. She remembered her father bringing her, as a young child, to observe some minor proceedings. She remembered her first day as Senator, and the looks the older beings had given her—half smirks and amused pity. She was too young, they had whispered; sixteen was far too young to change the galaxy.

"Unbelievable," said a voice from behind her. Leia turned around to see Mon Mothma with a sad smile on her face. Although nearly sixty, Mon Mothma was still beautiful, a thin, almost frail woman with short red hair that did not betray its age. The two women stood eye to eye.

"I know," Leia said, "They're making remarkable progress."

"What? Oh…" Mon Mothma looked out over the work crews. "Yes, I suppose they are." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, you just…standing there, you reminded me of someone from long ago."

"Who?" Leia asked, gesturing for her mentor to sit down.

Mon Mothma folded her hands in her lap, staring at her worn fingernails. When she looked up again, her eyes were wet from withheld tears.

"This would be…almost twenty-five years ago, before the Empire. Your father, myself, and a number of other concerned senators began meeting…"

"And formed the Rebellion. Yes, I remember hearing my parents argue about it. My mother wept when I told my father I wanted to help."

Mon Mothma nodded. "All of us lived to see the Rebellion officially formed…all but one young woman. When the Jedi Purge began, we lost contact with her…and it wasn't until the reports came from Naboo that we knew what had happened."

"Naboo?" Leia knew something of the planet, although not a great deal. The Outer Core planet had been distraught over their beloved Palpatine's betrayal and had gone into a nearly-complete isolation for over 20 years.

"Yes. This woman, Padme Naberrie, had died quite unexpectedly. The whole system mourned her loss; she had been their elected queen in her youth, before she moved onto the Senate. She was one of their youngest monarchs ever, I believe." Mon Mothma smiled, wiping away the still-unfallen tears. "You look a great deal like her. I just didn't notice it until you stood there. You have the same focused posture that she does. It must be the surroundings, a play of the mind."

Leia's face grew pensive. "Why have I never heard about her? She sounds like a woman they would teach about in classes designed to empower the young and hopeful politicians."

Mon Mothma gave a small shrug. "Padme was…friendly with a few of the Jedi, something obviously looked down on in the new Empire. I think we were all afraid to talk about her, to ask too many questions. I remember one day, your father looked up a proposal they had worked on together, only to find her name erased from the list of contributors. The rest of us began digging, mostly looking up our own files where she was involved…her whole career had just…disappeared."

Leia felt her hands grow cold, even as her face flushed. "Mon Mothma, do you remember which Jedi she was close to?

The older woman nodded, a bit of amusement on her face. "Of course, how could anyone forget? She knew the most famous team in Republic history—Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker, the Jedi who almost saved the galaxy."

----------------

When the Rebellion had returned to Coruscant, those who had once lived there tried to find their previous homes. Luckily, many of the Senate apartments had lain untouched since its dissolution. Leia had left C-3P0 with the onerous task of cleaning the place up and making it habitable once more.

Now the former princess stared at the main living room wall, watching a picture of Alderaan as it slowly morphed through the seasons. The palace where she had grown up was currently covered in snow, but that snow began to melt, and soon the picture was obscured by bright pink blossoms on the foreground trees.

Until her conversation with Mon Mothma, Leia had never been sure she hadn't imagined those late-night visitations from the woman named Padme. She had never told her father. In fact, Luke was the first person she had ever confided in about it. And now, to hear that this woman, Padme, had been close to a man named Anakin Skywalker…Leia shuddered. She wasn't sure she wanted to know any more.

"Oh! Mistress Leia! I am so grateful you're home," said the tinny, flamboyant voice of her protocol droid. "You received a package today. I had several scans run on it, to make sure it was not dangerous. And it isn't! Would you like me to bring it to you?"

Leia had to smile, although it was tinted with curiosity. Who was sending her packages? If it was Luke, he would have delivered it himself; she hadn't heard from her brother in at least a week. Han…she shook her head. _Don't even think about him_.

3P0 came out, golden arms outstretched and carrying a medium-sized box. The coding on the side indicated it had come from Dantooine, and that a small boutique named Sayanna's Silks had sent it. Curiosity officially peaked, Leia took the package from the droid and started to rip into it.

"Ah, Mistress Leia, I would be gentle with it. As I said, I had it scanned and…well, you would not want the contents ruined."

Leia nodded and began to gingerly pull back the tape. Inside was fabric, wrapped in purple tissue paper. When she opened the paper, she gasped. With trembling hands, she pulled out the dress, admiring the softness of the fabric and the impossibly delicate needlework around the edges. As she held it up against her body, a piece of paper fell to the floor.

Bending down, Leia picked up the paper. Her name was carefully scrolled on the front, in a handwriting she didn't recognize. The inside only contained a few lines, but it was enough to make the princess sit down with great haste:

_Dear Leia,_

_Saw this, thought of you. Hope you can find some use for it._

_Han_


	6. Puzzle Pieces

Disclaimer: The characters below are property of one George Lucas. The following situation, for good or ill, belongs to me.

A/N: For more on Leia's visions, please read _Beautiful…but Sad_.

**The Long Way Home**

Chapter Six: Puzzle Pieces

Luke's dreams had tormented him for weeks now, visions of his father morphing from a caring young man to a brutal killer and finally to the galaxy's feared Darth Vader. More than the horror of watching a good man betray and kill so many people he must have been close to, Luke writhed from his sheer inability to stop the madness. If only he could talk to the man in the dream, explain to him the dangerous road he tread down…

The Temple had proved surprisingly helpful in the last Jedi's quest for information about the nearly-dead order. Much of the information stored in the library remained intact, although it abruptly stopped almost fifty-years from the current date. Still, Luke began reading about men and women who may have known his father, Yoda, and Obi-Wan, enthralled with their adventures as a child with a new holo-comic. These beings had done fantastic things, had kept peace in the galaxy for so many years…why had Darth Vader destroyed them?

That was, of course, only one of the many questions that still remained in Luke's mind. As he read though the Jedi Code, he discovered a rule that had never occurred to him: Jedi were not allowed to form attachments, not allowed to marry. _How, then, are we here_? He asked the Force at large. Had his father gotten special dispensation? Was their mother a Jedi as well? Had his father…forced himself upon a woman? Luke shuddered at the thought.

Sitting inside the circular room in the tallest Temple tower, Luke thought about the Jedi who had trained him. He thought of Obi-Wan's last appearance, shortly after the bridge at Endor, when his former master had said Luke was on his own…for now. "We don't want you to repeat our mistakes, Luke; this new order of Jedi must be better than what we destroyed, it must be _your_ Order. Your…father assures us the answers you seek, _all _of them, can be found. When you are ready for us, we will come to you."

"Couldn't you at least point me in the right direction, Ben?" he asked the stale air. R2, just outside the doors, twittered and turned his domed head, expecting to see the old Jedi in the room with Luke. But his master was still sitting on the floor, alone.

R2 was struggling with the droid version of a conscience. As Luke read through the materials, he often mused aloud about his father, his mother, and the Order. Although R2's understanding of the events was limited, he remembered the people whose names Luke spoke. He remembered the kindness of Padme Nabierre, and her secret meetings with Anakin Skywalker. His processors still contained information about the two children born to her shortly before she died. Why, R2 asked himself, had Bail Organa not programmed the astromech to forget as well as C-3P0? R2 imagined not knowing was easier than knowing and having to keep his mouth shut.

Inside the circular chamber, Luke stood up. He gazed below him at the traffic, amazed that Coruscant looked so normal, considering what the galaxy had been through for control of it. He wondered, sullenly, why they had bothered to fight at all if the beings below were going to keep living as though nothing had happened.

Although he couldn't hear the footsteps yet, he could feel Leia approaching. R2 whistled cautiously, and then gave a happy _blat_ when the former princess rounded a corner. She made her way slowly into the center of the room, meeting Luke with reddened, confused eyes. The Jedi opened his arms, holding his sister close. _How could the Order deny a person this; how do you take away family and expect a person to be whole?_

"Leia, what is it? I hate to say this, but you look horrible."

His sister rubbed her brown eyes and nodded. "I haven't had any sleep in…well, nine years, since this whole mess started. I guess it's catching up with me," she said, trying to smile. Luke chuckled and gestured to one of the low chairs that encircled the room. They sat next to each other and she took a deep breath.

"I…I found out something a few days ago. I didn't know if I wanted to tell you, because that meant admitting things I'd rather not think about. But then I heard about how you hadn't left the Temple since we got here and I thought maybe…maybe this would help."

Luke leaned forward, taking her once-smooth hands in his. "Tell me, Leia. You shouldn't have to shoulder the burden alone."

Her tiny hands were shaking. "Luke, I…I think I may have found out our mother's name."

Luke flinched, grasping her hands more tightly. "Her…name? Leia, how can you be sure?"

She explained to Luke what Mon Mothma had said, and then, for the first time, revealed the dream-visions she had experienced as a very young child. Luke took it all in, stroking the backs of his sister's hands. Overjoyed as he was for the information, part of Luke was jealous. Why had their mother not come to him as well?

"Padme Nabierre," he whispered. A frown formed on his lips. "Mon Mothma just said they were close, not married? I don't understand any of this, Leia. There's a rule written somewhere that Jedi aren't allowed to marry. How, then, did…?"

Leia chuckled, surprising them both. "Luke, if I have to tell you where babies come from at this stage of the game…the Jedi are in more trouble than I thought."

Luke smiled, but his face grew serious quickly. "Something else is bothering you, Leia. This news about our mother isn't everything. What's wrong?"

She looked down at their joined hands, noticing for the first time how similar they were. Beneath the calluses and dirt, their fingers were slender, gentle. They did not have killer's hands; they had the hands of a diplomat and peace maker. _Our mother's hands_.

"It's Han." She sighed. "He…sent me a present."

Luke smiled, raising a questioning eyebrow. "He did? Well, that's good, isn't it? I know how you feel about him, Leia…everyone knows. And Han…well, Han's pretty easy to read, too."

She brought her forehead down to rest on their entwined fingers. "But we ended it, Luke, regardless of how we felt. I'm a politician and he…well, he's a smuggler." Luke opened his mouth to protest but she looked up at him, cutting off his words. "I know he's changed, Luke, but I don't think it's fair to bring him here, to make him part of this craziness when he'll just be miserable." A tear slipped down her composed face. "Why does he have to be such an ass sometimes?"

Luke didn't try to hide his shock. "Leia, you swore!"

Despite herself, she laughed, causing Luke to laugh as well. In the empty room, the sound bounced and echoed, filling the circular chamber with more happiness than it had ever known.


	7. Reluctant Hero

Disclaimer: If the character appeared in a movie, it belongs to George Lucas. If this is the first time you've seen it, he/she belongs to me. I'm not making any money off either.

A/N: This is just a little "thank you" to everyone who has been following our misadventures. Don't be afraid to check out some of my other, earlier work. /end shameless plugging

**The Long Way Home**

Chapter 7: Reluctant Hero

Han had learned a number of things during his gallivantings across the galaxy, not the least of which being that Hutts made profoundly lousy enemies. If at all possible, one should avoid angering Hutts. And although Lando was as galaxy-smart as the next rogue, he apparently had forgotten this very important lesson.

This explained why Han Solo currently found himself hanging upside down, ankles chained to a wall. Next to him, Lando Calrissian was in a similar predicament, further insulted by the blindfold placed over his eyes. They had spent much of the morning like this, and Han really wasn't sure why.

The pressure on his brain grew painful again. Using muscles usually reserved for very special ladies, Han propelled himself up to his own feet, grabbing onto the clamps where his ankles were held. His back and abdomen muscles screamed for some sort of release, his shoulder muscles joining with them after a few moments. It was uncomfortable, sure, but better that than passing out.

"C'mon, Lando," he grunted. "You gotta sit up, buddy."

It took Lando a little longer, as he had to propel himself off the wall using his hands to get enough momentum to sit up. When he did, however, his blindfold fell off and he blinked, looking around.

"Han, what the _hell_ did you do this time?"

"ME?" Han stared at the darker man. "I have spent the _entire_ trip in the _Falcon_, rewiring the turret sensors. _You_ were the one traipsing around the planet, trying to find crude metals. What did you stumble into that you forgot to mention last night at the club?"

"Nothing!" Lando rasped. Han could see that the other man's hands were turning colors as they held onto the hooks. Through the strain of holding himself upright, Lando's face changed slightly, as though he was remembering something. "Well, maybe. I saw this poor Twi'lek woman really getting beat up, and…"

If Han could have smacked his friend, he would have. "You interrupted a Hutt beating one of his dancers, didn't you?" He shook his head, despite the dizziness. "Lando, if we ever get out of this, I am dropping you off on the nearest planet and never speaking to you again."

-------------------------

The two smugglers were released at dusk, after promising to carry a large shipment of unknown contents to Coruscant. Han would almost have preferred to stay in the chains, but Lando giddily agreed to the ridiculous demand. The _Falcon_ had been loaded without incident, and they had set off only a few hours later.

Now Coruscant loomed out every viewport of the ship, city lights twinkling even at this altitude. Han had only been to the planet once, as a small boy, and could remember very little, except the sheer height of the buildings. He also remembered the Clone Troopers, as they were called then, marching through the streets shortly after the Emperor's declaration of regency.

"Uh, unknown ship…please identify?" The female voice from the planet wavered a little bit.

"This is the _Millennium Falcon _requesting permission to land and a descent pattern," Han said, angling the ship toward the planet's surface.

"_Millennium Falcon_? Never heard of it." There was a pause. "Let me check the list. Please don't…move, or anything." The com went dead.

Han and Lando stared at each other, eyebrows raised. "Never heard of the _Falcon_?" Lando said. "Who in the Rebellion _hasn't_ heard of this ship?"

The woman's voice came back, a little less uncertain. "Okay, your ship's specifications match what you're telling me, so they've given you the go-ahead to land. A Princess Organa has instructed that you land on platform 1138." Another pause. "That's...yeah, here we go, there's the flight path. Did you receive it?"

A beep and a set of coordinates appeared in the _Falcon _cockpit. "Received," Lando said. "Thank you very much…"

"Tamilla, security level three mechanic."

Lando's eyes widened. "A mechanic, huh? Tamilla, are you free for…"

The com abruptly cut out and Lando stared at Han. "What was that for?"

"Do not pick up ground control officers over the com, Lando. That's just sleazy."

Lando sighed, looking at their destination coordinates. "This platform is no where near where we need to drop off these boxes. Maybe if we call back the lovely Tamilla…"

It was Han's turn to sigh, accompanied by an eye roll. "Lando, it's bad enough we had to come here. I don't want to see the Princess any more than you do, but it's going to look more suspicious if we ask for another landing platform. Better they think I've changed my mind than that I'm running some sort of illegal operation."

"Han," Lando reminded, "we _are _running an illegal operation."

Han shrugged. "Since there isn't currently a solid governing body of a galactic scale, I'm willing to take my chances."

-----------------------

Leia did not meet them at the landing platform, which was just fine by Han. In fact, the area was deserted except for a few repair droids and a handful of humanoid mechanics. The sentient beings stopped to stare at the ship, murmuring to themselves at their good fortunes for having been working that early morning shift. Many a friend or lover would hear about the infamous _Millennium Falcon_ at dinner that night.

"This place is…huge," Lando said, all attempts to remain cool and unimpressed washing away. He stared up at the buildings, losing the tops of some in a light cloud cover, then looked down to a bottomless pit, more eerie than the Bespin environment he had left. He watched the hover cars and other vehicles flying by, amazed that he didn't witness any collisions. Finally, he turned to Han and lowered his voice. "We're still on the wrong side of the planet. How are we going to get this Hutt cargo to its rightful owner? We can't very well ask the guy to meet us in the government sector."

"You're right, _we're_ not." Han looked up at the building where they'd landed, wondering if anyone he knew was there. Besides Leia, did anyone know they were there? Did anyone really care that much. He turned back to Lando. "Nope, this is your gig, old buddy. You got us into this mess with your honor and heroism. You can get us out of it." He started off toward the building.

"Where are you going?" Lando asked, calling out over a sudden gust of wind.

"Inside," Han said. "Going to have a little look around." He looked at his wrist chronometer. "I'll meet you back here in three hours. I expect a plan at the very least, but having the cargo disposed of would really make me much happier."

Han walked into the building without alerting security; the droids must have been programmed to recognize him. _Thanks, Luke_, he offered silently. Along the walls were dark spaces where pictures must once have hung. The floors were carpeted in a deep red, coloring left over from the Empire. He made no sound as he walked the hallways, receiving only a handful of glances from the dozen or so people he encountered.

He took a lift up to the top floor, where the domed building opened up into a deep chamber of floating platforms. Han had only seen pictures of the Senate Hall on the holovids; the pictures had not done it justice. He stared down, wondering where Leia had stood as she tried to beat the system from within.

"Impressive, isn't it?" said a female voice from behind. Han jumped, turning with his hand on his blaster. It was not Leia who greeted him, however, but Mon Mothma, dressed casually in denim pants and a cotton shirt. She smiled at Han and gestured toward the Senate Hall. "Many good things were done here before the Empire, and many good things will be done here again soon." She gave a little sigh. "We were all saddened by your departure, Captain Solo. Have you, perhaps, changed your mind?"

Han shook his head. "I'm sorry, Senator, but no, I haven't. I'm here on…business with Lando Calrissian, but my curiosity got the better of me."

"That is…unfortunate, Captain," the former Senator said. "Someone with your…unique experiences would be a great asset to us as we try to weed out the Imperial officers who have gone into hiding."

Han chuckled. "Don't you think I'm a little too well-known to go on reconnaissance, disguise or no."

Mon Mothma nodded. "Yes, of course. But the information you have acquired through your experiences would be invaluable to our agents." She gestured, palms toward the ceiling. "Is there nothing I can say to get you to come back?"

Han looked back out over the Senate. Could Mon Mothma promise that Leia would be available, that she wouldn't hide behind her work and instead deal with the feelings they'd uncovered in each other? Was there a way to get, in contract, that the Princess still wanted him?

"Look, I…" Han moved his head in a fashion that almost resembled nodding. "In my travels, if I hear anything interesting, I'll be sure to let you guys know. I just…can't be here right now."

Mon Mothma gave another, sadder nod. "I understand.


	8. Reunion

Disclaimer: The _Star Wars_ universe is property of Mr. Lucas; I am making no money off this little endeavor.

**The Long Way Home**

Chapter Eight: Reunion

Leia did her best to concentrate as General Wedge Antilles discussed pockets of resistance and secession throughout the Outer Core worlds. Still, the young mechanic's announcement that the _Falcon_ had just arrived on planet had the princess's normally solid nerves shaking. That Han had made it quite clear where he stood on their relationship did not let her heart rest.

"Princess Leia?" a watery voice asked, "are you feeling well?" Admiral Ackbar was standing behind her, a webbed hand resting on her shoulder.

"Yes, Admiral, I'm sorry. Wedge, I did hear everything you said. If you'd like, I could take a small transport out to Naboo and meet with their Queen. She may just need to hear from us in person." It took a few moments for Leia's brain to realize just where she'd volunteered to go.

The men around her, including newly-promoted Major Nien Nunb and General Jan Dodonna, nodded their approval. The logistics of the trip were planned without hesitation, and the meeting was dismissed. Leia made a dignified exit, C-3P0 behind her, but once she had turned a corner, she bolted for the nearest elevator. 3P0 nearly missed the ride down, and if he could have panted, he would have.

"Mistress Leia! What is the urgency? You have until 1700 tomorrow to plan for this mission…"

"Han is here, 3P0, somewhere on this planet. I have to talk to him." She rested her head, with its one long braid down to the middle of her back, against the wall. "The galaxy is a pretty big place; what are the odds he would show up here?" She looked over at the droid as he clicked through her question. "Don't answer that." A sigh. "Besides, I need to find Luke. He should be on this mission with me."

They exited the elevator on the landing level, now bustling with beings as the hours moved on. On the platform, the _Millennium Falcon_ stood out, surprisingly clean but patched together like a well-loved pair of pants. Leia started her journey to the ship, but stopped short when a man walked down the ramp.

"Lando?" she called hesitantly. The man by the ship looked up, searching for the voice. When he spotted her, he waved a silk-covered arm and beckoned her forward. The landing platform crew gave her space, 3P0 thanking them as they walked past.

"Princess!" Lando wrapped her in a hug. "What are you doing here?"

"Lando, I work here. What are _you_ doing here?" she asked, extricating herself from the hug.

"Would you believe repairs?" Lando said, chuckling. "The ship hasn't seen enemy fire in over a month and we _still _can't get it to work." He looked at his chronometer. "I was just about to visit a man about some parts. Han's not here, but if you'd like…"

"Where is he?" she blurted out, before her head could stop her. "I'm sorry, Lando, that was rude. I was hoping to talk to him, but if he's not here…well, I'm leaving tomorrow."

"Leaving?" Lando frowned.

"The war's not really over, Lando, even though we won."

Lando nodded. "Han and I won't be leaving for a few days; do you want me to let him know you stopped by?" He smiled. "I'm sure he'd like to see you in that dress…"

Leia blushed. "You knew about that? Did he say…why?"

Lando shrugged. "You know Han, he's not really a fountain of information. But…did you like it? I know he was worried you might…"

"No, it's beautiful, I love it." Her face grew thoughtful. "Tonight, Lando, Mon Mothma is having a small gathering for everyone who helped organize the Endor battle. If you and Han are here, maybe you should come. I know Luke would love to see you both."

Lando gave a charming smile. "Perhaps we will, Princess, perhaps we will."

--------------------------------

Leia took extra care in dressing that night, actually bringing in 3P0 to help her with the final touches on her hair. For a protocol droid, he was adept at intricate braiding, and often surprised her with the unique styles he created. That night, he had wound a small section of her hair on each side into a bun, capping them with ivory lace baskets. A band, ivory speckled with blue, went across her forehead and held the two baskets together. The rest of her hair fell in loose curls down her back.

The ivory dress fit perfectly, although Leia was unsure as to why she had expected any differently. Han had, after all, spent a lot of time closely examining her anatomy, but even her father had been a lousy judge of sizes. She gave herself one final look in the mirror before heading to Mon Mothma's quarters.

_He's not even going to show up_, she told herself as she traveled alone in the elevator. _And if he does, he'll only be there for the food. He probably won't even talk to me…_

"Leia, negativity like that will only get you exactly what you're worried about," said the gently teasing voice of her brother. He was wearing all black, a replica of the outfit he had worn on the second _Death Star_. He looked tired, but Leia could tell he was exhilarated. Their trip tomorrow to Naboo had given him hope.

"Shall we?" he asked, offering his arm. She nodded, accepting, and rang the bell. Mon Mothma answered, wearing a gown of light green. The older woman hugged them both warmly, but Leia thought she saw curiosity in the former Senator's eyes.

"We didn't think you two would come together…" Wedge said when he shook Luke's hand.

"We ran into each other in the corridor," Leia said distractedly, looking around the room. Spotting Lando, her heart skipped a beat, but her face clearly dropped when she could not spot his traveling companion.

"He's in the 'fresher, Leia," Wedge offered. "Go stand over by the bar; he'll find you eventually."

Leia and Luke went their separate ways, mingling with friends they had barely seen during the past few months. Leia kept an eye out for Han, and an open perception to Luke, glad to at least be in the same room with her brother, but comfortable with the forced distance.

Han emerged and, as Wedge predicted, made his way to the bar. Leia excused herself from a conversation with General Dodonna about crude oil prices, took a deep breath, and headed toward the _Falcon_'s captain.

"I was surprised you came," she said softly, standing beside him, but not looking. "I thought you'd give Lando a few anatomically impossible places to put my invitation and leave tonight."

He had shaved, she noticed, and was wearing the outfit from the Yavin awards' ceremony. His hair was a bit tousled, making him all the more attractive to her. She took her eyes off him quickly.

"Yeah well…I didn't do it for you, Princess. I just didn't want Lando to volunteer for something if I let him come alone."

Leia felt something inside her break. "Oh," she said, ever the diplomat. "So you sent me this present just to…"

Han looked at her for the first time. "Present? Leia, I have no idea…"

"This dress!" she said, louder than she had intended. A few people nearby looked at them, but no one interfered. "You sent me this dress, and now you're saying, what…you changed your mind? Here, you can have it back!" She went for the buttons.

"Whoa, Leia, easy." Han put his arms around her, bringing her hands between them, but not letting go. "As much as I'd love to see you out of that dress, I don't think that's how you want to start your career in the new government." Her face was hot; she turned away from him. "I didn't send you this dress, but you do look lovely in it. Maybe someone thought…"

Their eyes met, and they turned to face the tall, dark human laughing with her brother. "Lando!"


	9. WellDressed Skeletons

Disclaimer: You know the drill—George Lucas, blah blah, don't sue, blah blah…

**The Long Way Home**

Chapter Nine: Well-Dressed Skeletons

Naboo filled the shuttle's view port, cloud cover giving way to lush greenery, blue waterfalls and sunny skies. Luke, piloting the craft, glanced up frequently, splitting his attention between landing patterns, the breathtaking view, and his nervous, overwhelmed sister. The diplomatic team that had come with the siblings had stayed in the back, allowing brother and sister a quiet moment together.

"It's beautiful," Leia said as the circled toward the main city of Theed. Domed structures in soft colors complimented the scene, almost a natural part of the environment. "Who would have thought such a beautiful world could have created such a monster?"

Luke didn't answer, gliding the shuttle into the hanger. With a gentle thump, the craft set down, and the engines rumbled into silence. Luke took his sister's left hand in his own and squeezed.

"If Mon Mothma is right…I think the Force more than made up for it with Padme…" he offered and she smiled, but the look slowly faded.

"How are we going to find out, Luke? I can't just walk into the palace and ask them about a long-dead queen-turned-senator's reproductive history."

Luke smiled a devious smile. "No, but you can ask about some of the planet's previous rulers; ask to pay your respects to their graves, couldn't you?" Leia nodded. "I'm going to poke around a little bit in their written records, see if I can find out anything about her family. There might be…someone who remembers her."

A knock on the cockpit door interrupted the conversation. "Princess Leia? Commander Skywalker?" We're ready to greet the Queen."

Luke gave Leia's hand another squeeze. "We're on our way."

-------------------------------

Luke wandered through the streets, vaguely reminded of the markets on his home planet…or, at least, the planet he had grown up on. Tatooine, of course, had been far dustier, and therefore the people far grumpier, but the excitement of the market remained. Memories of his childhood, when Aunt Beru had allowed him to accompany her to buy cloth or produce, made him smile.

He was losing track of his mission, of course. The Queen's representative had told him of the city's library, a well-loved building that had, in fact, inspired the market district. So many of Theed's citizens visited the library on a daily basis, some very wise entrepreneur had set up a stall selling used electronic novels. And thus commerce had been born.

Luke felt a twinge at the base of his skull, a sure sign the Force wanted him to do something. Closing his eyes, Luke saw a thread of light slipping into the library. _All right, all right, I'm on way_, he thought. Leaving the fresh air and tantalizing smells, Luke walked up the marble stairs to the library's front door.

"Good afternoon, sir, how may I help you?" the droid at the front desk asked. It was only half a robot, with six arm-like appendages and a body built directly into the computer console.

"You could help me by pointing me to records of former monarchs and legislators."

"Some of those files are restricted," the droid said apologetically, "but those you may read are to be found on level 4, section AA23. That is where we keep all citizen records."

Luke nodded. "Thank you very much."

He could have taken a lift, but the Jedi opted instead to take the stairs. Luke had found a sudden interest in architecture, fascinated by the multi-leveled buildings on Naboo and Coruscant, the different materials the builders used and the use of light. He felt the Force pulling him along, past countless pictures on the walls. Then, the Force stopped. He looked at the pictures on the wall.

Three young adults, two females and a male, all had their faces painted in white. The male's eyebrows were darker than could be considered natural, but the women had doll-like lips and cheeks. Luke read the plaques below the pictures and froze.

"Padme Nabierre, ruled as Queen Amidala," he said to himself. The young woman was so made-up he could not be certain, but he thought he saw his sister's eyes looking back at him.

Luke made his way up the remaining flights of stairs, winding through the stacks, taking his time. Part of him did not want to rush this experience, in case it was a disappointment. Instead, he let his eyes scroll over the various data pads. He was so caught up in his procrastination that he did not notice the young woman standing in one of the aisles until he had bumped into her.

"I am so sorry," he said immediately, helping the woman to pick up the pads she had dropped in the collision. He noticed that her hands were rough, but her nails were neat and clean. She wore a casual outfit, had short brown hair and hazel eyes. She looked at him without recognizing, and nodded.

"That's fine. Just…watch where you're going." She looked at him again. "Do I…know you? I mean, you seem familiar…"

Luke coughed. "Yeah, I get that a lot." He handed her the rest of her data pads. "Here you go. Sorry again."

Luke made a most un-Jedi-like rush out of the aisle, bee-lining towards the section the droid had told him about.

Hours later, Luke emerged from the library, eyes squinted from reading so many pages of information. The sun was low on the horizon, casting a purple glow onto the market streets, but very few buyers or sellers remained. Luke felt his stomach rumble and decided to find Leia and hopefully have a quiet, informative dinner.

He followed the path he had taken earlier that day, with purpose but not in a rush. In the back of his mind, he felt someone following him—not with any malicious intent, but with piqued curiosity. He realized it was the young woman from earlier.

_Oh please, don't have her recognize me. _

The Force had been on Luke's side for the past few months. The only people who really knew him were those in the Rebellion, and even then, not everyone had seen his face. After the Fall, when the newly-freed media had gotten hold of his story, his visage had become more widely known. Still, he thanked the Force that his face was memorable, but unremarkable.

She caught up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He jumped, pretending to be startled, and turned around. His face went from surprised to confused, or at least he hoped it had.

"Yes?"

"Look, I'm sorry," she said, "but I _know_ you from somewhere, and it's driving me crazy. Can you tell me your name?"

He sighed. "Luke…Luke Nabierre," he said. It was true. From a certain point of view.

Her brows knitted together, shaking her head. "Not ringing any bells. I thought for sure…" she shrugged, and then seemed to notice how little daylight remained. "I'm sorry, again. I guess…you just have a face that sticks."

Giving him a final glance, the young woman turned and walked away. Luke started back towards the palace, keeping a tendril of the Force locked on the woman. She did not seem hostile, or to be lying. When her thoughts turned toward her dinner, Luke realized how hungry he himself was and double-timed his trek to his sister.

Leia was in her assigned quarters, sprawled out on a blue couch, data pads surrounding her. On the coffee table, a tray of assorted fruits and vegetables, along with some cheese, sat untouched. Luke's arrival only warranted a brief glance and a nod, before she returned to her work.

"Business or pleasure?" he asked, sitting down on a matching, over-stuffed chair and picking up a pad before he sat on it. He scrolled through the information, reading about trade interests and taxes.

"A little of both," she said, not looking up. "The economy here is growing slowly, not really enough to balance the population boom—refugees and what not. It seems that their Queen Amidala fought an impressive battle with the Trade Federation, and won, but it didn't repair the damage their blockade had done." She sat up, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her forefinger and thumb. "These people want peace, but the Queen wants her people to live, as well. I think we may have an in…this may be how to win their support."

"Amidala?" Luke sat up. "Leia that…that's Padme…she ruled under that name."

Leia put down the pad she had been studying, her eyes curious, but wary. "So you found something, did you?"

Luke nodded. "Padme had a sister…and two nieces. They all still live in Naboo, out near the lake country." He smiled. "Up for a little road trip?"


	10. Back in the Saddle

Disclaimer: George Lucas God. Skywalker Child peasant. No contest.

**The Long Way Home**

Chapter 10: Back in the Saddle

Han had left Lando at the party, only after shoving the charmer into the hors d'oeuvre table. The Corellian smuggler has walked straight to the _Falcon_, where he had kicked consoles and punched screens until his toes and knuckles were bruised and bloody. Then, changing into his normal, comfortable clothes, Han Solo had gone out and gotten absolutely smashed.

At some point during his drunkenness, he had decided to take the first job offer which led him as far from the Core worlds as possible. When a female Twi'lek with soft brown eyes and tattooed purple lekku had begged him for transport back to Ryloth, he agreed. He'd also agreed to let her stay in the _Falcon_ while he slept off his ale, and at some point she even reasoned with him that his bed was the safest place for her…so long as _he_ was in it as well.

Now he was on Ryloth, watching as his passenger, along with several boxes of cargo, left across the hanger floor. The planet's air was gritty, an open vacuum droid in a windowless room. In many ways, it felt like Tatooine; the grime and the dirt caking into his clothing and skin without him even moving. Han decided to order some food and spend the night in his ship, in which he would be leaving promptly the next morning.

That was, of course, until the planetary police interrupted his sleep at 0230 hours, putting him in handcuffs and leading him off to the tiniest detention cell Han had ever been in. He was given no food, no water, and no indication as to what he had done wrong.

_Typical_.

"I have powerful friends!" Han called to no one in particular, hearing what he thought was a jailer whistling. "You're going to regret this."

"Yes, we know all about your friends, Captain Solo," said a disembodied voice.

Han looked around, finally pinpointing the source as a tiny speaker-box just outside the bars of his cell. The voice, though distorted, sounded female.

"Well then you know my being held here without reason isn't going to exactly enamor you to the new galactic government."

The voice chuckled. "Captain Solo, we _also_ know that your ties with the new administration are…feeble, at best. Now please, silence yourself."

"But why am I here?" He suddenly flashed back to another time, when he was tortured to the point of unconsciousness, without as much as a question being asked. _To think I wanted to make that man my father-in-law_. He smiled at his relative good fortune.

"The cargo you transported contained over ten kilos of spice, Captain Solo. Spice _not_ mined on Ryloth. We do not take having our economy illegally disrupted in a casual manner. You will be punished."

"I didn't…it's not my fault!"

-------------------------------

"You're lucky, Captain Solo; the judge has granted you a com call," the disembodied voice said, waking Han up from a fitful slumber. He had been dreaming about the night he rescued Chewbacca, and the following morning when he'd had his lieutenant's bars ripped off his uniform. The dream hurt more than the actual experience had—Leia was the one tearing off the bars.

Han rolled over and looked at the speaker box, yawning. "I don't have to pay for this call, do I?"

Another chuckle. "No, Captain Solo. But I would choose the recipient _very_ carefully. Your trial is set to begin in a matter of days."

Han rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. His first instinct was to call Leia, but he was sure she'd rather see him rot in this hell then come to his rescue. Lando was a last resort, if Han agreed to pay for the dry cleaning bill and fuel to get here. Chewbacca…no, he wouldn't get Chewbacca involved in this. The Wookiee probably already had a wife and a pup on the way. Luke was a good kid, but he'd probably side with his sister on this, and who would blame him.

He had a thought. An off-chance, but it just might work.

"Yeah, all right, I know who I'm going to call," he told the ceiling. "So, how does this work? Are you actually going to show yourself? Let me out of here? Or do I have to dictate the message?"

An unseen door slid open somewhere beyond the bars. A dark-skinned woman Han almost remembered slipped into the room, hips wiggling with a mind of their own. On one finger, she dangled a pair of handcuffs.

"Sorry, sweetheart, I don't do kink," he quipped.

"For your own protection as well as my own," she answered, keying open his chamber door. Han didn't try to bolt, but offered his wrists to her. She put the cuffs on like a pro, lingering a finger on his wrist. A chill went up his spine. _That _was a feeling he remembered.

"Avongara?"

She grinned. "So you _do_ remember me? Han, I'm flattered." She pointed towards the door. "Please, I'll allow you your com call now."

She led from behind, her small hand at the base of his spine. She took him down a long corridor, then into a room even smaller than his cell. His senses were tingling with anticipation, but it led to nothing. She sat him down at a console, pressed a button, and then stood back.

Han looked over his shoulder. "A little privacy, please?"

Giving a little frown, she walked out of the room, but left the door slightly open behind her. Han lifted his cuffed hands to the computer and typed in an extended destination.

The computer beeped for almost three minutes before someone finally answered. The woman on the other end, red hair shot through with white, looked like someone who had been in a deep sleep. She rubbed her eyes a few times before speaking.

"Captain Solo? Do you realize it is 0140 on Coruscant? This had better be important."

Han nodded. "I'm sorry, Mon Mothma but…well, I'm in a bit of a predicament. I know you don't have many people to spare but…" Quickly, Han regaled the Rebellion leader with his tale of woe, leaving out the part with Twi'lek in his bed. When he was done, he asked. "A little help?"

Mon Mothma visibly sighed. "Captain Solo, you put me in a most unusual position. I want to reprimand you for taking on cargo without knowing the contents, but I don't suppose that would do much good at this point." She sighed again. "If I do this for you…you're back on my payroll, Captain. I won't reinstate your military rank, but you're coming back to Coruscant."

"Mon Mothma, I…"

The older woman shrugged. "Or I leave you to rot in a Ryloth prison for the next sixty years." She almost smiled. "Your choice."

Han cast his eyes toward his bound hands. "Make sure they didn't do anything to my ship.


	11. Family Reunions

Disclaimer: Oh, how I wish I was smart like George Lucas. But I'm not. So I'm just borrowing his much-maligned characters for a little while. No money is being made off the publishing of this story.

A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting. Darth Real Life has a way of catching up with us when we least want him to.

**The Long Way Home**  
Chapter Eleven: Family Reunions

Thanks to Leia's diplomatic skills, and a cred chip slipped to an under-paid museum guard, brother and sister were given clear directions to a house set back from the bustle of Theed, near the lake country. It was a tall, stone building, yellow with flecks of green from years of half-hearted upkeep. Well-tended vines slipped up a metal banister, leading to a freshly-painted front door.

Leia was, as always, dressed in white. Her gown was long, but not cumbersome, allowing her to walk easily, and run without much difficulty. It was sleeveless, with silver thread along the hem. The high collar, also embroidered in silver, displayed scroll work from Alderaan, a message of good luck in the ancient language. Her hair was only half up, clasped and in curls falling down her back.

Luke had opted for more civilian-style clothing, light brown pants with a blue shirt, and tall brown boots modeled after Obi-Wan's. Though not ashamed of where he had come from, Luke understood why the Jedi were looked on with such uncertainty. He did not want to scare Padme's relatives if he arrived in full-blown Jedi attire.

R2-D2 rolled behind them, chattering to himself. The astromech droid still had the grounds in his memory bank, and even could recall when he had come here many years earlier with Padme and Anakin. In his own droid way, he was happy to be back. But, remembering the imposition put on him by Bail Organa, R2 wondered if he shouldn't have faked a short-circuit to avoid being here, in case he was recognized.

At the top of the stairs, Luke and Leia exchanged glances. Though her face remained calm and composed, Luke could tell his sister was beyond nervous and well on her way to petrified. IF Leia had been listening to Luke's rhythms, she would have sensed his own anxiety, although his was mixed with excitement and hope.

"Okay…you knock," Leia said, holding up her hands. "I just got my nails done and wouldn't want to ruin the paint."

Luke gave his sister a smile, squeezed her arm briefly, and then knocked on the door with his right hand. The sound was hollower than it should have been, and Luke cursed the folly that had led him to his inorganic appendage. He hoped no one here would notice if they got a chance to shake hands.

The sound of shuffling feet came up to the door on the other side, followed by many locks and keypads being reversed. When the door opened, it revealed an older woman, taller than both Luke and Leia. As a quick estimate, Luke guessed her to be about seventy, long brown hair mostly over-taken with gray.

"Mother, did you go all the way down the stairs to answer the door?" a younger, female voice called from up the stairs.

The woman ignored her daughter. "This…isn't possible," she whispered, staring at Leia. "So…much like her…"

"Ma'am, we're very sorry to intrude," Luke offered, bowing a little. "My…sister and I…" Luke paused to look at Leia. Other than Han, this woman was the first person to hear of their relationship. Leia, however, was too engrossed in the sight of the house's owner to hear her brother's declaration. "…We were wondering if you might know anything about Padme Naberrie?"

That seemed to do it. The older woman's eyes grew wide, and she truly looked at Luke for the first time. With a gasp, she fell back against the door jamb, clutching her arms around her. When Luke tried to move forward to assist, the woman sent out a wave of shock. He backed off, allowing Leia into the house first, where she sat the woman down on a nearby bench.

"Padme? You've come to ask about Padme? It's been…so long since anyone said her name. After the…accident…my girls were so distraught…"

"_Mother_! Who are you talking to?"

Down the stairs came a woman about ten years older than the twins, hair more blonde than the woman who had answered the door, but with many of the same facial characteristics. The younger woman hardly looked at Luke and Leia, going immediately to her mother.

"This is why you should let Ryoo or I answer the door, Mother. The strain of going up and down the stairs is too much for you."

"They're here about Padme, Pooja," the woman said. "They want to know about my sister."

Pooja finally looked at the visitors. Her eyes widened at Leia, and narrowed sharply at Luke. What truly got her attention, however, was the blue and white astromech trying desperately to hide behind Leia's robes. Helping her mother to her feet in silence, Pooja led the way into the dining room, where she sat her mother down in front of a glass of water. Luke and Leia remained standing, uncertain of how to proceed.

The house was beautiful. Sun streamed in through the many windows, highlighting the blues and greens of the fabrics, softening the yellows of the walls. Luke felt love in these walls, love mixed with a terrible sorrow and confusion that had not left in as many years as he had been alive.

"Where did you get this droid?" Pooja asked without any ceremony. "It looks exactly like the one that belonged to my aunt."

"This is R2-D2," Leia offered. "He was my droid on Alderaan, before…"

"R2-D2?" Pooja walked over, stroking the top of the droid's dome. R2 whistled uncomfortably, but allowed the woman to touch him just the same. "That's…the same designation…" Pooja's brown eyes narrowed to the tiniest of slits. "How did you come by this droid? We were sure he was lost, after…after she died."

Leia shook her head. "I'm not sure. My father…my _adoptive_ father…gave him to me as soon as I was born. R2 has always been with me." She smiled. "Except when he's off saving the galaxy with Luke."

The older woman was still staring at the young people gathered before her. "So much like him, Pooja. Do you remember?"

Pooja looked to her mother. "Yes…I do." The daughter looked at the two guests. "My aunt had a friend…she brought him here only once, when I was very young. He looked…a lot like you," she admitted to Luke. "Handsome, but a little naïve."

Luke blushed. "Do you remember his name?

"Anakin Skywalker," a third voice said. From another door, possibly the kitchen, a woman perhaps five years older than Pooja entered the room. She was drying her hands on a cloth towel, observing the scene with cool detachment. She too did a double-take at R2 before moving to stand behind her mother.

"After they left here that day, we didn't see her again…not until…" Ryoo's eyes grew distant as she looked out towards an expansive backyard and garden. "Not until they brought her back to us. Grandmother was so shocked…Aunt Padme had been pregnant."

The mother gasped. "How did you know that, Ryoo? We never told anyone…"

Ryoo gave a weary sigh. "I was thirteen, Mother; what do you think they'd been teaching us at school by that point." She shook her head. "I guess everyone assumed the baby had never been born. We never knew…"

"I knew," the mother said. "Or at least, I suspected. The way Jedi Skywalker had looked at your aunt…it was obvious how much he cared for her. Knowing Padme, she tried to deny it for as long as possible, but apparently…" She looked up at her visitors. With outstretched hands, she called them to her. She held onto each of their wrists, examining their faces closely. "So much like both of them. I hope my sister's time with him was happy." The mother let go of the twins and turned her gaze back toward her own children. Her voice sounded strong now, not at all the feeble old woman who had opened the door. "Well, find these people some food, girls. It appears we have a lot of catching up to do."


	12. Strange Bedfellows

Disclaimer: Except for the character names, George Lucas has nothing to do with this. And I have nothing to do with George Lucas's money—then, now, or in the future. Oh how I wish the latter were not true.

A/N: I know, long delay again. Why do these people want their children educated with any sort of quality?

**The Long Way Home**

Chapter 12: Strange Bedfellows

No matter how hard he searched, Han could not remember how far he had ever traveled into Coruscant's political buildings. When he was a young man, and that was a life time ago, he remembered being on Coruscant for graduation, where all the foot soldiers had received their assignments and ranks. They'd had to wait somewhere…it had been a huge ballroom-type structure, rows and rows of them…

He shook his head. That was not now. Now he was standing in a blue and gold carpeted hallway, staring at white walls. On the other side of the gray door was the woman who had rescued his Corellian ass from certain doom. Once the authorities had returned his poor ship, searched and practically destroyed, to him, he had flown back to Coruscant to receive his first assignment.

The door slid open, revealing an office of limited decoration, only a large desk, a calf-high table, and three overly-padded chairs. The walls inside, burnt red in color, gave the room a cozy, but an almost-too-close feel. Han tugged at the collar of his buttoned up dress shirt and coughed as he entered.

"Captain Solo!" said a pleased, female voice from the shadows. Mon Mothma appeared, wearing traditional Senatorial white garb, punctuated with a bright purple belt around her waist. "I see Ryloth was not _too_ unkind to you?" She gestured towards one of the chairs.

Han sat on the edge, arms laced across his chest. "Er…no. I mean, they didn't feed me or let me shower, but…"

"Good, good," she said, pulling a flat screened disk from off the table seemingly at random. She pressed a small green button on the side and the screen lit up. "Have you found a place to keep your things?"

Han frowned. "Keep my…I thought I would be going out…"

Mon Mothma smiled again. "Oh you will…from time to time. Your first assignment, however, is a bit closer to home."

-----------------

Han remembered Luke's first impression of Mos Eisley, quoting Obi-Wan… "a wretched hive of scum and villainy." Han supposed, then, that Obi-Wan hadn't been to Coruscant's lower levels too recently. The smell was overwhelming, even for someone who had lived with a Wookiee.

The Emperor had clearly decided that fixing his capital's underbelly was a fruitless endeavor. Neon lights, promising lewd sex acts, illegal drugs, and all sorts of unsettling activities, proudly proclaimed cost, times, and locations without fear of the law. Everyone, human and non alike, kept their eyes to the ground, avoiding the sight line of other sentients as they roamed the streets, looking for a quick fix or a good time.

No one paid any attention to the lone human male, hand stuffed into his deep pockets, scuffed black boots shuffling along. He was one of many, part of a huge collective of beings who looked and felt lost. Lucky for Han, he knew exactly where he was going.

The diner was not as dilapidated as the surrounding buildings. There were stains of various types on the outside, but the building had been freshly painted. All of the lights worked, and inside was bright and cheerful, with the muffled sound of music penetrating even the din of the streets. Han pushed the door open, nearly overwhelmed by the smell of…bread. Real, baking, bread. If he was less of a man, he might have wept for the joy of it.

"What can I do for you?" asked a large Besalisk male with a stained shirt and far too many arms than Han was comfortable with.

Han surveyed the diner's patrons. A couple in the far corner, a lone man at the counter…not what one would call 'hopping' by any means, but it was early in the day; people down this end weren't usually awake now.

"I need a booth, a cup of caffe…and some information."

The Besalisk's face changed shape and Han could only assume he had raised an eyebrow. "The caffe'll be free but the information…that'll cost ya."

Han rolled a coin through his fingers and the Besalisk offered him a seat.

--------------

"It all depends on how you want to get them," Han said over the com. Traveling up to the political center frequently was making him very nervous, so Mon Mothma had agreed to have their meetings this way. "Are you looking to embarrass them? Humiliate them with the galactic public? These…er, _men_, are like clock-work…I can tell you where they are almost every hour of every day."

Mon Mothma shook her head. "That's the old way of doing things, Han. We just want them brought in for questioning…possibly detainment, but only if Luke thinks they were complicit in what happened."

"Luke?" Han choked on his ale. "_Luke_ is going to be involved."

Mon Mothma frowned. "He's better than a lie detector…" A bit of understanding slipped into her eyes. "Oh, you're worried about…well, don't be. This is project separate from what Princess Organa is working on; I doubt very much I'll tell her you're involved in anyway."


	13. The Grind

Disclaimer: All hail the conquering hero, George Lucas.

**The Long Way Home**

Chapter Thirteen: The Grind

R2-D2 whistled, low and apologetic, turning his 'eye' to face anything but his master, Leia or C-3P0. Luke had his head in his hands, elbows propped on knees; Leia stared wide-eyed at the little droid, mouth slightly agape. 3P0 just wouldn't shut up.

"…I just do not understand why I was kept in the dark about such an important matter! Surely I would have been of some help during all these years of searching and wondering…"

"3P0, shut up!" Leia barked, hand flying out to cover his mouth. "I will have your memory wiped _again_ if you don't give Luke and I some quiet!"

The protocol droid shut his mouth.

Brother and sister sat in what was once their mother's bedroom, staring at pictures their grandmother, and then aunt, could not bring themselves to remove. Leia refused to admit it, but she saw a lot of herself in those pictures.

"Is this still just about us?" Luke asked, forcing his sister's brown eyes to meet his own blues. "There's a huge, historical lie floating around, about a very important woman. Can we _not _correct this?"

"The whole Empire was a lie, Luke…a lie that no one cared if we corrected. Why would one woman's life…"

"It shows the _good_ in him, Leia; don't you see that?" Luke's face was flushed. "I hated him too, and I still hate Darth Vader. But that was _not_ our father. Our father was a fighter pilot, a Jedi, a saver of worlds…"

"…a breaker of hearts," Leia added, her voice barely above a whisper. "He tore this family apart, caused the death of a daughter, a sister, an aunt…"

"…and he saved the galaxy for the love of his son…and daughter," Luke added.

"No one's ready for that yet, Luke. The wounds are still too raw."

--------------

The long ride back to Coruscant had given the siblings a great deal of time to think. Leia had felt Luke's gentle prods, searching to reassure, to comfort, to inquire…she had blocked them all. After that seemingly-endless time in the Death Star cell, the black, floating droid with its thin needle…she liked to keep her thoughts to herself.

Upon their return, Luke had disappeared, on assignment for Mon Mothma. Leia had returned to her quarters, spent twelve hours sleep and another two in a bubble bath before deciding she could face the world and her job. Dressed in a white pant-suit, Leia had ventured out into the real world, to check on the reconstruction progress in the Senate Round.

"As lovely as ever, your highness," said a smooth voice from behind. Leia smiled despite herself, turning to embrace Lando Calrissian. "You're not mad at me about the dress, are you?"

Leia shook her head. "Lando, my life is far too complicated to let a little matchmaking bother me." She patted his shoulder, stroking the fine fabric of his blazer. "Nice duds, what's the occasion?"

Lando looked around the empty hallway, and then leaned in to whisper. "I have a date."

Respecting, if not understanding, the secrecy, Leia raised an eyebrow. "Who's the lucky lady?"

"A..." he coughed, "An exotic dancer."

Leia chuckled. "Why am I not surprised?"

---------------

"But Princess, we are trying to…"

Leia held up an unadorned hand. "Ambassador, I haven't been a Princess for years. Please call me Mistress Organa…"

The Twi'lek nodded, head-tails bobbing. "A thousand apologies. Those of us on Ryloth would only like to see our planet remain neutral. There is some…business that we attend to that, while the Emperor overlooked it, your fine new government may not."

Leia suppressed a sigh, busying herself by tapping on a data screen. "To remain neutral, you need to stop detaining our citizens without proper council."

She opened her mouth to say more, but when she saw the designation on the ship, and the detained captain, she bit her tongue so hard she tasted the iron from her blood.

"He was a smuggler, Mistress Organa, he had no papers…"

Leia shook her head. "He has one of the most recognizable mugs in the entire galaxy, Ambassador. You knew who he was." She pushed over a second data pad. "If you want to remain neutral, you will agree to these points of order. Have your governor return this signed to us within a standard week."

"Or else?"

Leia shook her head again. "The Republic does not deal in or elses. But it will be difficult for you to trade with us."


	14. Last Jedi Standing

Disclaimer: Blah blah blah, not mine, blah blah blah, George don't sue

A/N: Sorry about the delay. The Muse, she is finicky.

**The Long Way Home**:

Chapter Fourteen: Last Jedi Standing

Luke Skywalker stood on the safe side of the two-way mirror, watching a middle aged man in faded, dirty denims as he stared into the too-bright ceiling lights of the prison. This had once been a man of some importance, one with several bars on his uniform and maybe a ship or two to command. Now he was just another lost veteran, trying to hide from his mistakes and his past.

Luke felt sorry for him.

_If Uncle Owen hadn't been such a pain in the ass, where would I have ended up? Would I have been inside the Death Star, instead of out? Would I have made it through, or broken the rules when I found out what was going on? Would I have known what was going on? Would I have found Vader too early? Too late?_

Luke hated 'what ifs'.

"So…what do you think, Luke?"

Wedge's voice came from that far off place that everyone lived in when Luke was contemplating his life. Shaking his sandy-blond-turning brown hair, the Jedi looked over at his friend. Wedge had one eyebrow raised, hands on hips.

"Lying? Telling the truth? Off his space dock?" Wedge pushed on.

"He's telling the truth…mostly," Luke finally offered. "There's something about his last command that makes him nervous; something he doesn't want to talk about because he knows there'll be repercussions."

"Ooh, was he stationed anywhere good? Were there hookers involved?"

Luke punched Wedge in the arm. Wedge frowned and stepped away. Wedge didn't mention hookers for the rest of the interrogation.

------------

The Temporary Council had crammed all of its members into the sitting room of one of the former senatorial apartments. The maroon carpeting was a little worse for wear, but had withstood years of neglect with style and grace. Outside the wall of windows, intra-planetary vehicles whizzed by, drivers and passengers alike oblivious to the government working.

"I think Padme would have appreciated this gesture," Mon Mothma said to those who had gathered. The major worlds of the Rebellion were represented: Mon Calamari, Bothawui, Sullust and many others.

Luke looked up at Padme's name.

"Padme?" he tried to ask casually, cursing his voice as it squeaked.

Mon Mothma squinted her eyes, curiosity washing away from her. She seemed to weigh the pros and cons of the admission, then nodded her head as she came to a decision.

"Padme Amidala. She was one of our founding members…has it really been twenty-four years?" Mon Mothma shook her head. "Yes, I suppose it has."

"And these…were her quarters?" Luke pressed on, painfully aware of the other council members' gazes.

Mon Mothma nodded again. "Yes. She lived here for three or four years before…well, before she died." Mon Mothma looked around. "I wonder why the Emperor didn't give this room to someone after Padme's death."

_Father_, Luke thought. _How much of you remained_?

"May we begin, Master Skywalker?" Mon Mothma asked, her voice calm and concerned.

Luke sighed. "Yes, of course. Let's see what we can do about those Outer Rim worlds. Tatooine can be particularly tricky…"

----------

"Thanks for meeting me."

Han looked better than the last time Luke had seen him; a little more color, a little less weight. Super-secret-under-cover work was good for him, apparently.

"Your…sister doesn't know about this, does she?" Han added, dropping his voice to a whisper and looking anxiously around the bar.

"Leia is knee deep in press junkets and Non-Alliance grievances; she really could care less about what I'm up to." Luke smiled and poured Han another beer from the pitcher between them. "What's up?"

"I just…" Again, Han's eyes flitted around the room, and Luke could feel the nervousness, the fear of being spotted, of being heard.

"Have you found someone else?" Luke asked, knowing the answer to be so far away from the truth that it almost was the truth on a circle.

"No!" Han cried. A few of the nearby drinkers looked over at him, shook their upper-most appendages, and turned back to their booze. "No," he said again, his voice quieter. "I wanted…to apologize. I've been…a bit of an ass lately."

"A _bit_?" Luke raised an eyebrow. "Yes, you could say that." Immediately, Luke could feel Han's embarrassment. "Han, look…this has been weird for everyone. Leia and I are trying to figure out how we fit into _everything_, including each other. I don't know…if I was you, I might have left too."

"She wanted me to leave. You know that, right?" Han asked defensively.

Luke smiled sadly. "Leia doesn't know what she wants. She didn't want to hurt you, Han…she didn't want to be hurt." Luke coughed uneasily, taking a sip of his beer. "You don't want to have this conversation with me, Han; I'm just the brother. The new brother at that. This is something you need to talk to her about."

Han stared off into space. "Yeah, I suppose you're right…after Tatooine."


	15. Three is NOT Her Number

Disclaimer: George Lucas owns all these characters. I am not making any money off these chapters.

**The Long Way Home:**

Chapter 15: Three is _Not_ Her Number

"Did we _really_ have to come back here?" Leia asked. This was not the Princess of Alderaan or New Republic ambassador speaking; this was the young woman of eighteen or twenty-two who did not have a lot of luck with the dusty planet of Tatooine. She was thinking of a space race through the stars than landed her in a _Death Star_ detention center, and a gold, metal bikini that Han was _still_ upset he had never really seen.

"You didn't have to come with me," Luke reminded, absently piloting the small passenger ship into the atmosphere of his home planet.

Leia sighed, pulling her legs up into the seat, wrapping her arms around her knees. "The new government wants to succeed where the last two governments have failed: Mon Mothma wants to bring the Outer Rim into the galactic fold." Leia looked at him out of the corner of her eyes. Luke knew what was coming, had known for weeks, but wanted her to bring it up to him in her own time. "At first, they were just going to send a random ambassador…"

Luke grinned, turning slowly towards the docking bay they had been assigned in Mos Eisley. "What, lowest sabaac card looses?"

His sister chuckled. "Something like that. But then I suggested that perhaps a home-grown boy, one who'd 'made good', as it were, in the new regime, might be a better spokesman. Of course, they couldn't send you by yourself…so I volunteered to come along."

Luke opened his mouth to ask her what would happen if he didn't agree to help, but his words turned into a chuckle much like hers. Leia raised an eyebrow. "Something funny?"

"This is Docking Bay 94," he stated matter of factly.

"Uh huh…"

"This is where Han was parked when I first met him."

Leia started to smile, but mentioning Han's name was still a dicey move around her. From her half-smile and the glazed look in her eyes, Luke knew she'd traveled back in time to her first encounter with the smuggler. With the soft _thud_ of the ship landing, she came back to her brother, stretching out her legs to stand.

"So, where do we start?" he asked.

Leia walked toward the passenger cabin on the ship, raising her voice as she walked farther away.. "First, I'm going to get changed. A representative from the Smugglers' Guild will meet us here at 1400 hours, local time. Which means he'll be here in…" she looked at the time piece in the control console as it adjusted itself, "…two hours."

"The Smugglers' Guild? I know it's been awhile, but I do vaguely remember voting for a planetary governor when I turned eighteen." Luke knew his home planet was off the beaten path, but Jabba and his ilk had never officially run the planet.

Leia's voice came over the intercom, the noises of her rummaging through bags muffling her voice slightly. "Mon Mothma sent a general transmission to what had been the Governor's Mansion, asking for permission to send an ambassador. The Smugglers' Guild leader, a female Yam'ril named Kitik Keed'kak, said the Governor had been away for quite some time, but she would _love_ to speak to anyone we would send."

Luke shook his head. "I'm going to power-up the droids, in case we need 3PO. I don't think the human ear can even process Yam'ril sounds."

Where Leia had turned right into the passenger compartment, Luke turned left into the cargo hold. Sister and brother had decided they wished to travel in silence, so the protocol droid had been shut down immediately after take off. R2-D2 had agreed to remain with his counterpart inside the cargo hold. The twins were still displeased over his silence on the matter of their paternity.

R2 gave a happy whistle of greeting when Luke entered, spinning in small circles. Luke pat the droid on the top of his dome and smiled. "I don't think we're really angry with you anymore, R2; you were just following orders, after all. We're back on Tatooine, though…anything you'd like to share?" the Jedi asked, joking.

R2 responded with a low whistle and Luke could hear the gears spinning inside the blue and white casing. Much like Luke's first encounter with the droid, a fuzzy, blue image appeared in front of R2, this one taking the familiar shape of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

"Luke, if you are seeing this, it means you have survived the Emperor and have returned to Tatooine. I instructed R2 that, should anything happen to me, he was to play you this message if two criteria were met: you had discovered your mother's identity and you had returned to Tatooine. Bail Organa and I agreed to _not_ wipe his memory, but installed a program which made it impossible for him to reveal any information about your background to you.

"Assuming you came back to Mos Eisley, I'm afraid I have to send you half-way around the planet to Mos Espa. There you will find a Toydarian named Watto, if he is still alive. He ran a junk shop during your father's youth, which he later expanded into a pawn shop when the Clone Wars cut down on the pod racing. Tell him Obi-Wan sent you, and that you're looking for my box." Obi-Wan's recorded face gave a sad smile. "If he gives you any trouble, and he will, remind him of how much he lost the last time he trifled with a Jedi." His smile became more genuine. "R2 is instructed to reveal what he knows once you have seen the contents of that box."

Luke sat down on the floor, watching Obi-Wan fizzle out of existence. R2 rolled forward, bumping his master and beeping sadly. Luke reached up and flipped the auxiliary switch on 3PO's side, powering the droid up.

"Master Luke! Did I malfunction in someway? I have been powered down for almost two days now…"

"3PO, you're going to be joining Leia while she tries to bring this planet back to civilization."

"Oh, a diplomatic mission! No weapons fire, no unkempt creatures…"

Luke couldn't help but laugh. "You're meeting with the leader of the Smugglers' Guild, 3PO."

"Oh." The protocol droid sounded almost depressed.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Governor's Mansion had been opulent at one point, the ghosts of its majesty shown in the meticulously crafted banister in the front hall and the smooth, sanded stone of the foyer floor. Leia was briefly reminded of the palace her mother and father had renovated during her eighth year: draped fabric covering all the valuable pieces, dust everywhere. This palace as in a state of deconstruction, however, and it made her more sad than the memory of her adopted parents.

"Welcome," said a mechanized female voice from beneath the stairs. A green, bug-like creature, with two claw-like arms and four skittering legs appeared, wearing a translation collar. "Please excuse our appearance; the Governor left in a hurry and we've been having many yard sales to remove his belongings."

_Guess I didn't need 3PO after all. _

Leia stood up taller, shaking her head. "Please do not insult my intelligence, or the intelligence of the Republic, into thinking I believe this story, Madam President. We are all aware that you and your smugglers have removed the Governor from office and he has since left Mos Eisley for a quiet life of moisture farming. But since you are now in charge of at least _this_ part of the planet, we would like to discuss an alliance."

"Mistress Leia," 3PO said from behind her, "the Yam'ril do not like to be spoken down to. Please be careful."

Kitik Keed'kak let out a clucking sound that Leia assumed was a chuckle. "Your droid is smart, but worried over nothing. Very well. As one woman warrior to another, let us discuss the situation." The mechanized voice became serious. "We are not interested in becoming part of the new galactic government. We have a system here that works for us…"

"It does not work for the slaves and the farmers and all the regular citizens of this planet!"

Kitik blinked her big eyes and flailed her right claw. From some unseen place, two of the dirtiest humans Leia had seen came and grabbed her arms.

"Oh dear!" Leia struggled to turn and saw that 3PO was in the arms of a very ugly Gamorrean, even by Gamorrean standards.

Leia let out a string of explicit curses she had heard Han use when fixing the _Falcon_.

Kitik make the clucking-laughing sound again. "I did not know that the Princess of Alderaan knew such words! Perhaps you are not as foolish as we believed."

_I got caught unawares by your minions; I'd say I'm pretty foolish_, she thought. _Actually, this is all Luke's fault. He up and left me as soon as the escort had arrived. 'I don't sense any deception here…or at least not directed at you', he had whispered. 'You'll be fine, Leia. I have something else I have to do…I'll see you tonight'. _

"I have powerful friends; you're going to regret this," Leia said, trying to keep her voice even.

The humans and Gamorrean chuckled with their mistress this time. "The young man? Yes, I can see how he would be a problem. We will contact your people on Coruscant; we shall see how much you are worth."

As Leia was dragged under the stairs where Kitik had come from, and 3PO was brought in another direction, she cursed again.

"I _hate_ this planet."


	16. Her Knight in TwoToned Armor

Disclaimer: George, not me. I do this for fun. George does it because…well, he wants to be rich.

A/N: Hope it was worth the wait.

**The Long Way Home:**

Chapter 16: Her Knight in Two-Tone Armor

Han had never been one for rehearsal. Rather, he preferred to improvise, from what he wore in the morning, to what he ordered when he went out to eat. Even conversations he knew of ahead of time, meetings and dealings, he preferred to wing. More often than not, he didn't get himself into too much trouble.

But now, all he could do was think. Since he had left Luke in the bar, he had found a great many ways to occupy his time, almost all of them legal. Mon Mothma had kept him busy, ferrying false people of importance to fake meeting places, a paranoid habit of the early days. His biggest job so far had been to carry 300 cartons of dried figs to a system lord in hopes of winning the man over to the new government's way of things.

Alone in the cockpit, however, Han began to prepare his conversation with Leia. It had been months since she had said goodbye, weeks since they had seen each other last. Still, Han Solo was a reformed quitter, and he wasn't so sure he was ready to give up on the Alderaanian princess.

"I understand this has been a tough time for you, Princess," he said to the console as it flashed the time left until they dropped out of hyperspace. "No, I should call her Leia; that'll catch her off guard." When the console didn't argue, Han continued. "But this hasn't been easy for anyone…" He frowned, looking up at the star lines that surrounded the cockpit. "Too confrontational? Maybe." He stroked the scruff on his chin, contemplating whether or not he should shave before she returned. Shaking his head, he returned to his conversation. "I want you to know that I'm not going anywhere, this time. I'm done running from tricky situations. And believe me, Princess, you're a tricky situation." He gave himself a satisfied grin. "That'll get her…"

On the console, a blue light began to blink. Han's grin turned into a questioning purse, and he flipped a switch. "Solo here, who's calling?"

"Han, it's Mon Mothma."

The hairs on the back of the ex-smuggler's neck stood up; he felt his stomach tighten. "Something the matter, ma'am?"

"I'm afraid so. Ambassador Organa and Jedi Skywalker have not reported in since they arrived on Tatooine." Her voice tried to sound playful, but instead came across as uneasy. "Skywalker is off trying to re-establish the Jedi, I'm sure, so his silence does not surprise me. But Leia…she should have checked in by now."

Han was surprised at how even his tone remained. "But if Luke is with her…I mean, how much trouble can they _really_ be in?" Han considered what he had just said. "After I drop off this spinach, I'll swing by the planet."

He could hear the smile in her voice. "Thank you, Captain Solo."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tatooine, impossibly, had remained the same since Han's last visit to the planet. Of course, most of his previous visit had been spent in a blind stupor, but the blurs he had seen matched well with the yellow planet on which he had just landed. Locking the _Falcon_'s ramp, Han headed off toward the nearest bar.

A few of the creatures inside glanced up as he entered, but no one seemed to recognize him, from his former or current life. Sitting down at the bar stool farthest from the door, he ordered a glass of the local ale and watched the crowd.

He could discern three groups of patrons: prostitutes, their bosses, and guys like him looking for a little fun between runs. For the right price, a smuggler could get a female of any species to do anything for any amount of time. Or a male, for that matter, but that usually cost more.

There was a human female sitting five spots away from Han at the bar. She was young. _Too young_, Han thought. Even in the dim lighting, he could see the circles under her eyes and knew she hadn't seen a meal in quite awhile. He also noticed the armband on her bicep, the unmistakable swirl of the Yam'ril.

Han signaled to the bartender. "Please get that lovely young lady at sandwich and a cup of something that won't inebriate her." The bartender shook his head, but called to the kitchen in Huttese with the order.

The young woman had heard him, and looked up, forcing a smile. Her face was more drawn than Han had initially realized. He gestured towards the seat next to him and she slid on down.

"Thank you," she said. "I get so busy, I forget to eat." She tried another smile, this one more genuine and therefore more attractive. Han smiled back.

"I've found the saying about men and their stomachs can also be applied to women."

She looked at her wrist, checking the old chrono that sat there. "I'm actually on a break now, but we can go someplace quiet after I eat."

Han hoped he looked convincing. This girl was almost young enough to be his daughter. "We can stay here."

She raised an eyebrow. "That'll cost extra."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clearly, Han had found the novice prostitute of Tatooine. She had broken one of the top three rules by allowing Han to buy her drinks. She'd quickly become inebriated, and then broke another of the rules as she started to babble on about her boss and where she lived when she was off-duty. In her final failure, she had agreed to let Han take her home, as she was in no condition to get herself there in one piece.

As he had suspected, she was a "member" of the Yam'ril clan; if by member one meant indentured servant. Her father had sold her to the group as repayment for some heavy gambling debts he had accrued. Han had tried to find out where the father was now, in hopes of visiting him after this little ordeal was over, but his companion had gone off on a tangent shortly thereafter.

Most importantly, Lolita had mentioned the heightened security around the former Governor's Mansion over the past few days. She didn't know what exactly was going on, but seemed pretty certain there was a very important person there as a guest (here she made an exaggerated quoting gesture and almost fell off her stool), and everyone was double and triple-checked before they were let into or out of the gate.

_Leia_. Han had what he needed.

As he walked Lolita home, he slipped a hefty credit chip in her back pocket. Criminals had become less picky during the Rebellion, taking any money that people would offer in exchange for services. Han didn't know how much Lolita's father owed, but he hoped that would keep her fed for awhile, at least.

Now Han was slipping around the corners of buildings, using the falling night for cover. It wasn't hard to find the Governor's Mansion, as it was the tallest and most out of place building in the entire landscape. Even from several blocks away, however, Han could tell that security was _at least_ as tight as Lolita had said. The four-meter high fence, along with the twenty patrolling Gamorreans, made the rescue more of a challenge than Han had counted on.

_I could sure use Skywalker right about now_, he thought, then realized that if Luke had done his job, Han wouldn't have to be here. _Chewbacca would be a nice addition to this equation, too_, he concluded.

But he didn't have Luke. Or Chewie. All he had was his blaster, his wits, and his Corellian charm.

Leia was in more trouble than she had imagined.


	17. Old Friends, Long Gone

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters created by George Lucas, nor am I making any money off of this story. The ideas and other characters are my own, however. Please don't use them unless you ask.

A/N: Ah, the fine art of procrastination! Sorry so short, and with a cliffhanger; Luke just needed to explain his lack of involvement in Leia's kidnapping.

**The Long Way Home**

Chapter Seventeen:

Old Friends, Long Gone

Luke coughed as another gust of wind kicked up Tatooine's sand. He had forgotten about _that_ little annoyance and knew that he'd be finding the tiny granular particles everywhere on his person for weeks. While he appreciated everything his planet had taught him, Luke was definitely ready to leave and never come back.

Still, Obi-Wan had left some rather specific instructions, and Luke _usually_ did what Obi-Wan told him to do. So the young Jedi sat inside a poorly-lit, filthy pawn shop, watching the hovering Watto. The Toydarian was old, with white ear hair, a white beard and graying skin. He coughed a lot, as well, occasionally blowing his elongated nose into a disgustingly dirty rag.

"Yes, yes…I remember Ben…he came here…many years ago. Offered me an _obscene_ amount of money to hold onto something for him…just in case…" Watto's voice trailed off, and he hovered a little closer to the ground. R2 gave a short _blat_ of annoyance, and rolled away towards an off-duty astromech.

"The box," Luke said gently, "is what I've come here about. Ben said you were to give it to me…"

"_Give_ it to you?" Watto's voice pitched oddly. "Toydarian's don't _give_ anything; we barter for goods and services! What do you have to _give _me in return for your box?"

Luke sighed. "You can have the eternal gratitude of the galaxy's last remaining Jedi…and no questions asked about where some of these items have come from." Luke held up a rather expensive-looking necklace to prove his point.

"Jedi?" Watto coughed again. "Yes, well, perhaps I can _give_ you the box after all…" The Toydarian floated away into a back room, leaving Luke to examine his degenerate surroundings once again.

A weird feeling began to creep up from the base of Luke's skull. At first he swatted at it, thinking one of the sand bugs had crawled up his shirt. Then he realized the sensation was coming from the inside, tiny prickles of concern that emanated from one source: Leia.

He focused his thoughts on her, trying to get a clear picture of the problem. She was stressed, and uneasy, but not in any immediate, palpable danger. He wanted to send out a question, check her response time and emotion, but knew she would only be angry for his mental intrusion, and so he backed off.

Watto flew back into the room, carrying a small stone box. R2 whistled excitedly, rolling back and forth on the dirt floor, kicking up dust and making both human and Toydarian cough. Immediately, R2 began to play another message:

"Greetings, Watto. And thank you for keeping such good care of my estate. Anakin would have been very pleased to discover your magnanimous ways." Ben gave a playful smile, one Luke had rarely seen, then gestured around, as if hoping Luke was somewhere in the vicinity. "Please return the box to this young man, who will appreciate the contents much more than you possibly could."

Ben faded away into cosmic dust once more, leaving a startled Watto and an amused Luke. The older of the two handed over the box and grunted. "If that will be all then…"

Luke nodded. "Yes. Thank you for your time." He looked around the pawn shop, feeling another strange sensation, of having been some place before. Like the cave on Dagobah, only less threatening, more…innocent. He tried to hold onto the feeling as he and R2 left.


	18. Father's Day

Disclaimer: George Lucas is, of course, owner of all the characters detailed below. I'm merely playing in his sandbox.

A/N: Again, so sorry for the delay. It makes me sad to write _Star Wars _fic sometimes. For a similar visit with Leia and Padme, please read "Beautiful, but Sad."

**The Long Way Home**

Chapter 18: Father's Day

Leia was attempting to meditate as Luke had taught her to do during stressful situations. Legs crossed, hands resting on knees, she inhaled slowly, holding her breath for a three-count before exhaling. Truth be told, the situation wasn't as stressful as some others she had been in. Her Yam'ril captives had given her food, water, 3P0 and plenty of alone time. In fact, she hadn't seen anyone since she'd been taken captive.

She hated to admit it, but the meditation was helping. With each breathing cycle, she felt more relaxed, more focused. She could feel Luke out in the ether, and attempted to send a message of distress in his direction. Whether it reached him or not, she didn't know; she was actually enjoying her moment of peace, something she hadn't had since she was sixteen years old…except with Han.

_None of that_, she said to herself, fidgeting on the ground of her cell. She gave herself another breathing cycle, pushing her lost lover from her mind. She needed to think of a way out of this situation, a way to escape without her usual rescuers.

Something tickled the back of her mind. She was sensing something sad, something unpleasant, linked to this planet. The population of this outlying world had gone through so much, at first she assumed she was picking up generations of unease and displeasure. This felt _personal_, however, but not quite as personal as her imprisonment in Jabba's lair…

_A woman, older, tied to a wooden structure, half-conscious. Vitals barely alive, she thinks only of her son, a boy who is now a man she has not seen. She is in pain, but she waits for him, hoping beyond hope that her son will rescue her._

_A young man emerges from behind a tent flap, wide blue eyes frantically searching the dimly lit interior. He finds the woman and his face is a mesh of pain and elation. She mumbles something to him as he frees her from her bindings, then dies._

_The look on his face scares Leia. It is tortured, angry…sadistic. Lightsaber ablaze, he exits the tent. Leia can hear the screams…_

Gasping, Leia opened her eyes, reconnecting with the reality of her situation. She was not out in the middle of the desert; she was in a small cell with a deactivated protocol droid and a great deal of questions.

"Luke tells me to forgive him," she told 3P0, thankful for his silence. "How can I forgive a man who did…_that_?" She was sweating now, the chilled sweat of anger and disgust, how she had woken up on the _Death Star_ after Darth Vader's…questioning. "How could _she_ forgive him for that? It must have been before…" She shook her head, suddenly putting her own difficult relationship with Han into perspective.

"I could explain it to you, Leia; but I don't think I could justify it."

Leia yelped, turning suddenly, hand brought up in defense. Behind her, in a soothing blue aura, stood the man she had seen in her vision, slightly older and more scarred. His eyes were sad, much as Leia remembered her dream-mother's eyes. This was a man who had seen a great deal in a few short years.

"You," she spat out, pushing herself farther away from the apparition. "I don't want to hear your…_explanations_ for anything. Your…_penchant_ for evil started much earlier than I expected, much earlier than Luke expects…"

"Your brother knows a great deal more than he has told you," the sad ghost who was once Anakin Skywalker said, sitting down on the edge of her cot, his Jedi robes rustling with surprising realism. Leia pushed farther up against the wall. "Luke has seen the worst parts of me, things far worse than that…" Anakin sighed. "But he wants you to forgive me."

"I won't."

"I don't expect you to," said the young ghost, smiling sadly. "Even Padme could not truly forgive me, and she loved me…more than I possibly deserved. And I did…" He stopped himself, sighing. "Leia, I am not proud of what I have done. I set out to save so many people, but I was misguided, confused, and ultimately cocky…too self-assured. I was blinded by power that I couldn't control..." He stopped again.

"Why are you here?" Leia asked, bringing her knees up close to her chest, hugging them to her.

"To keep you company," he said, giving a more genuine smile, "To answer your questions." He chuckled. "I wasn't supposed to come; there are strict rules about interfering with the living. But I was never very good at living by the rules. Or after-living by them either, I suppose."

"I had a father," Leia told him. "A good father who loved me, and brought me up to fight against everything you established. I think about the times I was in the same room as Darth Vader, and I want to vomit. To think I was that close to…" Her voice trailed off.

"If I told you it was for your mother, for Padme, everything I did…would that change how you feel?" Anakin's ghost looked at his daughter, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "I loved your mother so much, did so many things I wasn't supposed to in order to be with her…" He frowned. "Do you think Luke will keep that foolish rule about Jedi not being allowed to marry?"

Leia blinked, startled by the change of conversation. "Luke isn't even sure there are any Jedi left. Certainly no one has come forward in these last few years."

Anakin seemed to consider this, perhaps reflecting on his role in what happened. "The Force has a way of righting itself; it gave the universe you and your brother to counteract what I did with the Emperor. It will replenish its stock in Force users; it is the only way."

Leia's face still wore a look of thinly-veiled contempt. Anakin frowned. "I don't expect you to forgive me right now, Leia…or ever. I only want you to know that, deep down, I did it for you…and for your brother. I wanted my family to be safe and healthy. I was blinded by that, and made decisions I cannot undo."

His figure began to shimmer, growing dimmer and more transparent. "I was capable of love, Leia; perhaps I felt it too deeply for my own good. And now, after it all, I am capable of it again. I feel it for you…and your brother. Perhaps one day you will return the favor."

He disappeared, but a disembodied voice chuckled. "Give Captain Solo another chance. Despite what I put him through, he is a good man."

Leia could only stare at the spot on her cot where he had sat, long after he was gone.


End file.
